She came in now with an air of reserved solicitude. “I had those beautiful roses from you on my first night, and a tiny little note but no address. But your cracked skull is by no means a pleasing spectacle. Lucy sighed, finding it odd to switch roles as she had over the past weeks. She had found that proof. “Please stop, cabman,” she ordered. “I didn’t know you were half-Gypsy either. ’ ‘What, for not wanting to marry you?’ ‘Imbecile.
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