She had been in the drawing-room for a few minutes before the gong had sounded, and had chattered gaily to every one. A mutual recognition took place at the same instant between the stranger and this individual. The Wastrel did not relish this. She reminded him of his linnet, when he gave the bird the freedom of the house: it became filled with a wild gaiety which bordered on madness. . “Michelle, it’s me, Lucy. At last the panel swung back into the library.
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