Not a bark could be discerned on the river, except those already mentioned. "There's the house," said Jack, pointing to a pretty cottage, the small wooden porch of which was covered with roses and creepers, with a little trim garden in front of it. “I had a visit from Sir John in my rooms,” she said. Lucy looked at the stains on the threadbare carpeting to distract herself, embarrassed to her core. And now I find, when it is too late, that I might have deserved you—that I am as well born as Thames Darrell.
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