” Anna handed her a bracelet she had made out of string and macaroni. I am Lucilla Froxfield, you must know. She may be an infuriating little devil, but she is far from stupid. The fact itself is regrettable enough—regrettable, I fear, is quite an inadequate word. At the eastern gate of the churchyard stood the carriage with the steps lowered. Though it’s very kind of you. “I never planned it—And now I have begun—” She felt acutely that he was entitled to explanations, and as acutely that explanations were impossible that night. She approached this field with her usual liveliness of apprehension.
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