Her eyes were dilated— fixed in a horrified stare at the parting in the curtains which hung before the window. " "Ah, yes; that coat. The white haze of poison clouded her eyes. ’ Lucilla Froxfield laughed gaily. ‘Certainly you may have me under guard. They may love us, but they love us as the slave loves his captor, not as equals. I have only just left Wych Street. " "Readily. From what she could tell, he truly had convinced himself that he was in love with her, but she knew that his ardor would fade eventually inasmuch as she knew John’s would.
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