F. Her sense of humour could not wholly resist his abnormal gravity. It could not go on much longer, her luck. There must be something we can do. “Is that not rather a profitless speculation, my friend?” He seemed deaf to her interruption. “Dinner is served, m’m,” said the efficient parlor-maid in the archway, and the worst was over. ‘How do you do, my lord? I am Lucilla Froxfield.
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