Her loneliness was consuming, Lucia. Having heard from Thames that you were better, and that your sole anxiety was about me, I came to give you the first intelligence of my escape. “I propose,” Sir John said, “that we pay for our dinner—which we haven’t had— tip the garçon a sovereign, and take a cab to the Ritz. You have been going out every morning, and coming home late—tired out—too tired to come down to dinner. Yet the fact remains that you do not understand me at all. “I want to make you happy, Lucy.
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