Her own pack was so light that she left it in the locker. “Lucy, I have to talk to you. She was saying good-bye to childhood and home, and her making; she was going out into the great, multitudinous world; this time there would be no returning. Then he slapped his hand on his desk and looked up with the air of a man struck by a brilliant idea. Something in her lack of embarrassment irritated him. ‘And that Suzanne, the sister of my cousin the vicomte, must choose between Monsieur Charvill and her brother.
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