Again he played for her; and again the eruption of the strange senses that lay hidden in her soul. “Please forgive me, Lucy. “You’re splendid. It’s like this: You want freedom. “You’re. She hadn't measured up; she had been stupid; she hadn't known how to make love. ‘She won’t confide in you? Now, why?’ ‘Because that scoundrel Leonardo drummed it into her head that no man was to be trusted,’ Gerald announced viciously.
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