’ ‘But, Hilary—’ ‘Don’t you begin, Lucilla, for I won’t stand for it. “Anna,” she moaned, “I am a jealous, ungrateful woman. “I wish,” she said, “that you would leave off looking at me as though I were something grisly. It was a fetching gown that stretched tightly in a cream colored swath over her breasts and expanded to a full skirt with a petticoat.
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