She had been forced to buy herself that pair of boots and a walking-skirt, and the pearl necklace at the pawnbrokers’ had yielded very disappointingly. “You are the type that I want to marry someday, you’ve got a beautiful body, such pretty eyes. Lucy felt her eyes misting up, turning traitor. His manner, however, was as stern and haughty as ever, and his glances retained their accustomed fire. They were alike in one phase—loveless and lonely.
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