John’s father piped up, bored with the conversation, and asked, “Where do you get your blue eyes, Lucy? What nationality are you?” “I’m mostly Italian, but I get my blue eyes from my mother, who was Gypsy. The agony on the sands now ceased to puzzle her. I barely prevailed sometimes, but in the end, my wits were faster than their steel. No matter how swiftly he pursued this riddle, he could not bring it to a halt. She was in excellent spirits, and it was not until she had taken off her hat, and was considering the question of dinner or no dinner, that she remembered that another day had passed, and she was not a whit nearer being able to pay her tomorrow’s bill. But all that could be ascertained in the village was, that a man had ridden off a short time before in the direction of London. I’ve had enough of it. She lifted her shoulders in an eloquent shrug. ‘How famous.
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