Lucia confined herself to her quarters, wondering when they would flee to the country as so many other houses had done. ‘Comment? What do you wish?’ ‘What the devil do you think you’re up to now, I’d like to know?’ Her eyes flashed. ’ ‘Me, miss?’ uttered Mrs Ibstock doubtfully. At the back of her mind there seemed always one irrelevant qualifying spectator whose presence she sought to disregard. You must not, however, accompany me, Jack.
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