And thus it was that she came upon a book of Stevenson's verse—her first adventure into poetry. " "Oh, yes I will. “Lucy, do you forgive me?” She looked at him in earnest. He conveyed not only his sense of the extreme want of correctitude in their unsanctioned meetings, but also that, so far as he was concerned, this irregularity mattered not at all, that he had flung—and kept on flinging—such considerations to the wind. ’ ‘Never mind the comtesse,’ adjured Prudence.
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