The lunches were individual affairs: sandwiches, bottled olives and jam commandeered from the Victoria. Opening her large black eyes, she fixed them upon him for a moment with a mixture of terror and loathing, and then averted her gaze. "Do you dare to insinuate that Mrs. “I do hope that I shall be able to make it up to you. . Do you accept it?" "Dear Thames!" "Forgive this ill-timed avowal of my love.
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