‘Do you think I do not know? What am I doing here, do you think?’ ‘That’s just exactly what I’ve been asking myself,’ he returned. She addresses you as the Flower of the Lotus, as the Resplendent Moonbeam. She was not squeamish—although the sight of the sergeant’s ominous preparations had severely tried her fortitude—but Kimble’s white face plagued her conscience. “Nigel is like all men,” Lady Lescelles continued.
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