“Did you see who that was?” he asked in a low tone. ” Marina would drawl, Lucy invoking her mother’s face as the image of the beautiful but cruel princess Anoush. His countenance was almost as white and rigid as that of the corpse by his side. Poor little one. There is some deep treachery hidden beneath his words. That a longing of hers should be realized in this strange fashion was difficult to believe: it vaguely suggested something of a trap.
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