’ Lucilla frowned. . “My dear girl,” he said, in a tone of patient reasonableness, “you are a mere child. What was he doing? What was he thinking? It was less than a day now, less than twenty hours. " "You can give me a little of his history, can't you? Something about his people?" "Oh, his folks were all right. ‘And I’ll say it as often as I choose, you confounded impertinent wench! Who do you think you’re talking to? I’m your grandfather, girl. Perhaps an hour passed before she laid aside the book.
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