” Sir John stamped his letters, brushed his hat, and carefully gave his moustache an upward curl before the looking-glass. “Let us go to that little place at the back of the Palace. “And as for praying for faith—this sort of monologue is about as near as any one of my sort ever gets to prayer. “Don’t lie to everyone, Lucy! You know it’s the truth!” Michelle defended herself. I’d rather starve!” For a moment the conversation hung upon that declaration.
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