They were the only real marriages she had seen clearly. As she hoisted her skirts near her waist, she thought ruefully of the last time she had worn such an elaborate gown, sometime near 1910 when petticoats were still considered hip everyday garb. It was cheating, pitiful cheating. ‘As I have said, it was a quarrel between the vicomte and Monsieur Charvill. " "That isn't the point, Hoddy. “Oh, we are also under the spell,” he declared, “but I think that we are here mainly because it is cheap. Lucy entered the room. Behind the Avenue was a little hill, and an iron-fenced path went over the crest of this to a stile under an elm-tree, and forked there, with one branch going back into the Avenue again. But that explains everything. The place was pockmarked with window-like holes everywhere—people were always 138 falling into them and breaking bones--it was for these lookouts why she had chosen it. "No such thing," rejoined Thames.
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