277 “I was beginning to think that I would never see you again, Lucy. Lucia had never been so happy, so content. He had not proceeded far when he encountered Sir Rowland, who, having missed his attendant, had returned to look after him. I MUST. Any natural fineness would be numbed by drink. Beyond was an avenue of tall poplars that rose like columns, disappearing into undulating hills that were black with sleeping houses and fertile soil. The hansom drove off. She doesn't love you; she hasn't the least idea what it means beyond what she has read in novels. "No"—as if her thoughts were elsewhere. A faint anticipation of triumph showed in his manner and a subdued excitement. Smith, now, being more than half-seas over, became very uproarious, and, claiming the attention of the table, volunteered the following DRINKING SONG. A young man with shiny frock coat and very high collar, advanced towards her languidly. She found herself struggling with a storm of tears.
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