Part 4 MY DEAR VEE, he wrote. Ah Cum patrolled the length of the boat innumerable times, but never letting his glance stray far from the gangplank. “Who’ll mind the baby nar?” was one of the night’s inspirations, and very frequent. They were sitting alone, Lucy. Presently, two carriages dashed down the hill, and drew up before it. ‘Is he meeting you here then, my dear?’ ‘He had better,’ said Lucilla.
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