"I am Owen Wood, at your service. The houses were older, the shops gloomier, and the thoroughfare narrower, it is true; but the bustle, the crowd, the street-like air was the same. Someone had thoughtfully wrapped a bit of tissue paper round the electric bulb. I will marry you when Sir John gets his divorce, and I will do all I can to keep you out of harm. ‘Because I’m a female,’ declared Lucilla unanswerably. As he balanced the photograph, a humorous twinkle came into his eyes.
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