" "Well then, to change it," replied Thames, gravely, "suppose I should be obliged to leave you. I saw her face and it was the face that had been hidden from me in dreams, a face very much like yours, Lucia. Courtlaw—Lady Mackinnor. Oh, the scent of the flowers that day, the delicious quiet, the swallows that dived before us in the river. As if we didn’t know! The practical trouble is our ages.
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