’ ‘Was it?’ Her lips twitched. Finally she decided upon a step that had always seemed reasonable to her, but that hitherto she had, from motives too faint for her to formulate, refrained from taking. She let out a delighted laugh. There was more to be told, and this was as good a time as any. It was the crowned queen of mountains in her robes of shining white. The time was the 26th of November, 1703: the place, the Mint in Southwark. ” “Don’t be shy, Lucy.
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