Lucy sat in back of Jane Lenihan, who never spoke to her. Sheppard. A dovecoloured kincob gown, embroidered with large trees, and made very low in front, displayed to the greatest possible advantage, the rounded proportions of her figure; while a high-heeled, red-leather shoe did not detract from the symmetry of a very neat ankle, and a very small foot. The light was poor, so that she saw their gleaming faces dimly and indistinctly. ‘Don’t concern yourself, Hilary. But if I were you, I shouldn't warn Spurlock. I’m behaving shockingly, I know.
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