"I can't say I do," replied Wood. Lucy looked about confusedly. " "All right, then. I'll put a brace of dogs on your track, who'll soon hunt you down. The postilion obeyed, and dashed off as hard as his horses could gallop along the beautiful road leading to Neasdon and Willesden, just as the serving-men made their appearance. “Hello? She’s like, your girlfriend, not mine. Faintly bothered by what it might mean, Gerald rose from his seat and crossed to the tray to pour himself a glass of wine.
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