” “I think,” Lady Lescelles said, putting down her teacup, “that I must send Nigel to plead his own cause. Lucy cringed, her eyes widening. I could make away with him at once, as you are about to make away with your nephew, Sir Rowland,—but that wouldn't serve my turn. You may fall into the hands of your enemy. She had left for ever the cage, the galling leash: she was free. Yet the smoke was curling upwards in a faint innocent-looking cloud to the ceiling.
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