There was a black fear in his heart. Lucy felt a finger tap her on the bra strap as she observed Michelle chatting with yet another passing group of people. “I propose,” Sir John said, “that we pay for our dinner—which we haven’t had— tip the garçon a sovereign, and take a cab to the Ritz. There had been disappointments and humiliations, and although she hated to admit it even to herself, she was in desperate straits. I’m fine.
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