The huge, newly remodeled brick house was crammed full of people reeking of beer, vodka, and tequila. The door was closed— locked,—and the pair were heard descending the stairs. ’ ‘That’s fortunate,’ murmured Lucilla. He took up his hat and went. “You know,” he muttered, “you know quite well that your troubles are far more likely to weigh upon me than my own. “Loneliness,” she said, “is a luxury which I never permit myself. It'll be in your way. “Julian, I don’t want to get married!” She blinked in 119 disbelief as she saw how hurt he was by her reply. She met the keen grey eyes of a clean-shaven man, between forty and fifty, quietly dressed in professional attire.
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