‘Well, sir, if I’ve to choose betwixt him and you, I’ll take you, no question. Lucy inhaled deeply. ‘Do you think it is the man in the moon that I mean? What is it that Gérard has told you?’ ‘That you need help. "You are the son of Sir Montacute Trenchard, of Ashton-Hall, near Manchester. In a second the glass lay shattered upon the carpet. He must have been following her from room to room, silent in his stockinged feet. I myself have had the pleasure of dining with her.
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