’ He strode to the fireplace behind the leather-topped desk and addressed his own reflection in the mirror, wagging an admonitory finger in his own face. "You are a paragon of prudence and discretion," rejoined the woollen-draper, drawing his chair closer to hers. I would like to have to tell it so. “Why won’t you sleep in my bed tonight, Lucia, where 80 it’s warm?” He asked her one night, teasing but mournful, as she stood in her bedroom doorway in a long white gown. He had barely said, \"Anytime,\" before she shut the door rather rudely in his face. But it was of no avail. “Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure about that. Sebastian spotted her among them instantly.
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