She dared not say the word aloud, not even to herself. 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. ’ Mrs Sindlesham laughed lightly, but her eyes quizzed him. “I am a fool,” he said. You creep around in a nun’s habit, peering into a private ballroom.
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