Someone bounded up the stairs, which groaned from the strain, unmistakably Mike. The expression pervading the countenance of the one was vulgarity; of the other, that which is rarely found, except in persons of high birth. “I am lonely. “You were really at Moulton House,” she exclaimed penitently. Perhaps for the first time he realized that Anna was by no means an ordinary person. Lucy stared at the girl for a long ten seconds, and then looked away. He felt his heart beat faster and faster—his self-restraint slipping away.
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