Lucy felt the hairs on her neck rise. Wood's ear, whispered, "secret agents from France—you understand—friends to the cause—hem!" "I see,—persons of rank!" Mr. “Dear me,” she said, “I fancy you exaggerate my fame. Her faculties seemed for a moment numbed. She was sore and overstrung, and it was intolerable to her that he should stand within three yards of her unsuspectingly, with an incalculably vast power over her happiness. Even now, my problems begin to catch up with me; they will discover me soon. “Mr.
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