’ ‘Fiddle,’ scoffed Miss Froxfield. Lucia dismissed the rumors, as it was not likely an archbishop would renege on his duties to become her personal doctor. On that night,—that fatal night,—Winifred crushed all the hopes that were rising in my heart. The unknown, previously so attractive, now presented another face—blank. His blood would be sweet with it. Quilt, who was an ardent lover of mischief, could not help laughing most heartily at the rueful appearance of these personages.
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