" "Those terms were a third of my estate," observed Trenchard bitterly. This is where my character, Lucia, is coming from. Her thought spoke aloud. Her softly intertwined fingers became rigid. "There, Sir," she added, unlocking the door, "you can go in. "Quilt!—Mendez!—Where are you?" vociferated Wild, sounding his whistle for the third time. Go and prepare for our departure. But although startled and clearly afraid, there was no self-consciousness in her gaze and she was standing her ground.
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