Then he lifted the black cloak-like garment from the floor. At least the sun would not be as bright, which was a welcome reprieve from the mercilessly bright early summer days which had invigorated every man, woman, and child in the suburbs but were wearing Lucy down into acute fatigue, along with her hunger. "Sign this," he said, pushing the document towards Sir Rowland. “Couldn’t we three go out and have some coffee somewhere? The thought of that drawing-room paralyses me. ” “Don’t tempt me,” she said, laughing, and drawing her opera-cloak together.
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