“I wonder,” she murmured to herself, “if this is the beginning. “Why won’t you sleep in my bed tonight, Lucia, where 80 it’s warm?” He asked her one night, teasing but mournful, as she stood in her bedroom doorway in a long white gown. At luncheon, on the third day, a thick-set man with a blue jaw smiled across his table at her. The beachcomber, the lowest in the human scale; and some day he would enter into this estate. CHAPTER XXX.
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