She wanted to stay where she was; but tears were dangerous; the more she wept, the weaker she would become defensively. ‘Martha was my wet-nurse? But she is unmarried. I don’t think any surroundings could throw a shadow on you. “She is living there now,” she remarked. “You are so sweet, Lucy. “I thought we had discussed that, father. ” He followed up a line of thought. Not a bad man as men go, but he would sell whisky and gin. She was to see Capes to-morrow, but now, in this state of misery she had achieved, she felt assured he would turn his back upon her, take no notice of her at all. He forgot Annabel’s idle attempts at love-making, all the cul-de-sac gallantry of the moment.
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