Gosse sneered. . Lucy thought of a song that she had not been able to get out of her head since the Fifties. . “You will not give Sir John any cause for jealousy? You will have no secrets from him except—concerning those things which are past?” “Anna, I swear it!” her sister sobbed. ‘No, my poor guardian,’ Gerald mocked. Just what in the world was that about? Before he could hazard a guess, Lucy looked back at him.
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