Lucy looked at her with a small measure of pity. ‘Certainly, if I was a nun, I know of many good names. She had paid her bill, and she had enough left in her purse to pay many such. In the beginning was afraid; but after the first several cases, I had only pity. She thought of her father in the garden, and of her aunt with her Patience, as she had seen them—how many ages was it ago? Just one day intervened. Pramlay received them in the pretty chintz drawing-room, which opened by French windows on the trim garden, with its croquet lawn, its tennis-net in the middle distance, and its remote rose alley lined with smart dahlias and flaming sunflowers. Here, take this youngster, Terry; my legs are lighter than old Nab's. "Vell, vell," growled Sharples, after he had listened to the other's remonstrances, "it shall be done.
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