Flinging her back against it, she put her hands out, barring his way. ‘What do you mean?’ ‘You should have gone to Charvill. I want to hammer myself against all this that pens women in. As Jack conjectured, no one was there, and, though a lamp was burning on a stand, they decided upon proceeding without it. ‘Thought you were going to break in here,’ he said, in an impatient whisper. Lucy was filled with happiness, it was her third Christmas at the Becks.
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