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You belong to me, and I have waited long enough. ’ All at once Mrs Sindlesham looked across at him, a sharp question in her eyes. “What have you done?” 212 “It is your own fault, Lucia. His face, as he looked down where his hand sought for a weapon concealed in her petticoat, was so close that she could see only the line of his firm jaw, the drag of his powdered hair that drew it into the military pigtail, and the black ribbon that adorned it. Pramlay received them in the pretty chintz drawing-room, which opened by French windows on the trim garden, with its croquet lawn, its tennis-net in the middle distance, and its remote rose alley lined with smart dahlias and flaming sunflowers. "I release you from your promise.
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