Not a word was uttered by the assemblage; but a hush of expectation reigned throughout. G. CHAPTER XXII Every morning at dawn it was Spurlock's custom to take a plunge in the lagoon. Fortescue, with a bow. She did not answer him, as she did not know what to say. “Sit down,” he said, and perused—“perused” is the word for it—for some moments. He agreed it was disgraceful. Heard of your last escape. Accompanied by Sir Cecil, who still continued passionately enamoured of his sister, and to whom he represented that she had fallen a victim to the arts of a seducer, he set off, at fiery speed, for the metropolis. Silken open robes over full tiffany petticoats in a contrasting colour were, Lucy assured him, of the very latest Parisian design, cut by the finest French tailors.
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