” Lucy sat patiently as she was improved. Through one doorway she saw a grave Chinaman standing on a stage-like platform. It was a gray day in the spring of 1910. She looked and felt like a fairy princess. It was long and narrow, with a ceiling supported by huge uncovered rafters, and so low as scarcely to allow a tall man like himself to stand erect beneath it. And how much I owe you, too, dearest Winifred, for your kindness and attention. ” She thanked him with one of her shy little glances. ‘More, I think,’ put in Madame, soulfully regarding the major, ‘because I have English, a little.
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