Lucy wore it every day from then on. He was perched on the very edge of the leather seat of the coach, his threecornered hat twisting nervously in his hands, and from time to time he passed a tongue over dry lips. They went on talking in the train—it seemed to her father a slight want of deference to him—and he listened and pretended to read the Times. But you belong to me—and I want you. 1.
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