The girl who had just left the room was as great a mystery to him now as on the afternoon when he had met her in Piccadilly and taken her to tea. Activity in the hall intensified. “No doubt about that, I fancy,” Meddoes answered lightly. David left this afternoon. God, Lucy, what’s it been, how many years?” “I’m so sorry, John. “Anna!” he exclaimed hoarsely. Her foster father had been outside for most of the morning, working on trimming the maple trees and mowing the lawn.
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