’ ‘What, even less delightful than Gerald?’ enquired Lucilla, her eyes dancing. ‘Mademoiselle,’ he had greeted her, entering the little private parlour where, Martha being at prayer in their room, she sat alone, reading over and over the letter Mother Abbess had given her and revolving plans in her head. She could not help devouring him a little with her eyes across the Burger King booth, handsome shoulders visibly solid underneath his ridiculous polo shirt, his eyes all sweetness and light. But, it can't be helped. ’ ‘You speak it very well,’ Gerald said encouragingly.
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