” “You have no right at all,” she answered coldly. "So did I," answered Jack; "we had better move on. Shall we sit outside and drink a petit verre of something to give us an appetite while dinner is being prepared?” “Certainly not,” she answered. Very quietly, he added, “Oh Lucia, I’m sorry. “I cannot thank you, Sir John,” she said. Thames took it, and beheld the portrait of a young man, apparently—judging from his attire—of high rank, whose proud and patrician features certainly presented a very striking resemblance to his own. The evening breeze came; the bamboo shades on the veranda clicked and rasped; the loose edges of the manuscript curled. You need not be afraid. Half an hour passed, but Jack did not make his appearance. ’ ‘Because I was a servant in the vicomte’s house? Things have changed. But I may yet live to thwart them. She could feel her face turning beet red.
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