’ ‘Bravo,’ applauded Lucilla, clapping her hands. She gained her room, and slammed her door and locked it as though she feared violence and pursuit. He saw that she was tense. Jonathan smiled contemptuously. He and his friends (he had at least two per class, even in Trigonometry) would make their exits as quickly as possible. Vorsack echoed him. If ever I did meet a man I could love, I should love him”—her voice dropped again—“platonically.
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