Clearly dazed, he stared, whispering an oath. I am Lucilla Froxfield, you must know. Wild is incapable of such baseness. It always comes out sooner or later. The study seemed absolutely unaltered, there was still the same lamp with a little chip out of the shade, still the same gas fire, still the same bundle of blue and white papers, it seemed, with the same pink tape about them, at the elbow of the arm-chair, still the same father. John stared palely. "Now, Jack," cried Thames, warmly grasping Sheppard's hand, "you are my friend again. To my loving husband Rodney, who is truly a dream come true.
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