"I'll go to her directly," said Wood, bustling towards the door. Lucy stared out to the busy streets beyond. “Listen! There was a Meysey Hill in Paris, an American railway millionaire. After the dance, they went to a party. Automatically, she glanced at the slight red graze left on her neck that marked the point where Gerald’s sword had nicked her. “Diedermayer’s a kiss-ass.
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