Only her face was clear, frail and delicate, almost flower-like, with the sad haunting eyes ever watching his. ’ ‘You traitor, Gerald,’ laughed Lucilla, her yellow curls bouncing under a huge straw bonnet all over flowers. She remembered him as a dull figure, a big man with a belly that was already showing fat under his fine scarlet clothes. Place a pistol at my ear, and shoot me, if I've told you false.
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