"If I thought he lived——" observed Wood. Clarice was from Lombardy, fair-haired and light skinned. "Mother!" cried the son, "help!" "What is this?" shrieked Lady Trafford, raising herself on the couch, and extending her hands towards him. Ann Veronica could at the same time ask herself what this queer old gentleman could have meant by speaking to her, and know—know in general terms, at least—what that accosting signified. Just what in the world was that about? Before he could hazard a guess, Lucy looked back at him.
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