There's a friend of Sir James—a young man, an engraver of masquerade tickets and caricatures,—his name I believe is Hogarth. Imbecile. ’ ‘It will give me the greatest of pleasure,’ Gerald said at once, making an elegant leg. ’ ‘You traitor, Gerald,’ laughed Lucilla, her yellow curls bouncing under a huge straw bonnet all over flowers. ‘Oh, I do love a flatterer. “Thank you,” she said coolly.
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