She had fallen asleep on the wooden bed, uncaring of lice or bedbugs. Apparently she was always doomed to weep when she talked to her father. ‘What in God’s name do you think you’re playing at?’ ‘Let me alone, man,’ Gerald muttered under his breath. Towards night, however, he ventured out, and walked on towards London. ’ ‘Get on, Hilary, do,’ begged Lucilla.
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