"I call this ere crib the Little-Ease, arter the runaway prentices' cells in Guildhall. But although startled and clearly afraid, there was no self-consciousness in her gaze and she was standing her ground. ’ Lucilla frowned. After all, she only LOOKED a woman. From the threshold she looked her accuser steadily and coldly in the face. Oh, cuss it!” “Eh?” “He said I would. It’s your way of glossing over the ethical position. CHAPTER XXIII. ” “Of course,” his friend answered.
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