” Lucy replied. ‘You don’t favour her, bar the black hair. Give me your name, girl!’ ‘Again?’ Mademoiselle rolled her eyes. “Let’s go home. I gather you wish to go up in some fantastic get-up, wrapped about in your opera cloak, and that after the festivities you propose to stay with these friends of yours, and without any older people in your party, at an hotel. “But your sister?” he asked. —Jonathan Wild: August 31st, 1724. She was as lovely in the spirit as in the flesh. Wood uttered something like an imprecation. 1.
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