What sort of a standard of life yours may be I do not know, yet in your heart you know very well that every word you have spoken to me has been a veiled insult, every time you have come into my presence has been an outrage. ’ Lucy was silent for a space, once again wearing that inscrutable expression. He drew her closer. She had looked forward to an explanation. That is what stands between us, if you would know—that.
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