“I don’t see there’s any getting away from the fact that you and I love each other,” he said, slowly. “The young lady, I presume, told you that her name was Anna,” he remarked. Russell trouble, a good lot of trouble. . “Mary Lucia. But—Miss Pellissier!” “Well?” “Are you quite sure that you want us this evening? Wouldn’t you rather be alone? Just say the word, and we’ll clear out like a shot. “Are we interrupting anything?” “No!” Martin jumped slightly. Behind the poet came Sir James Thornhill.
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