If the young ladies were dowerless, which seemed likely, their attire at least—so Lucilla assured him in a whisper—was of the first stare. Michelle moaned and Lucy, unable to help herself, stroked her hair. But the free arm of the stranger hit him a flail-like blow on the chest and sent him sprawling into the yielding sand. Life is two things, that’s how I see it; two things mixed and muddled up together.
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