Then to the Feathers, in Drury Lane. ’ Lucilla burst into laughter and clapped her hands. But I will not be engaged as ‘Alcide’ or advertised under that name. Yet her aunt, with a ringed hand flitting to her lips and a puzzled, worried look in her eyes, deaf to all this riot of warmth and flitting desire, was playing Patience—playing Patience, as if Dionysius and her curate had died together. "Somebody ought to get hold of that young man," said Prudence, grimly, as she nodded in Spurlock's direction.
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