Then his tiny bow mouth opened into an adoring smile. You are afraid of the warmth in your blood. He wore a French military undress of the period, with high jack-boots, and a laced hat; and, though his attire indicated no particular rank, he had completely the air of a person of distinction. Lucy stared at the girl for a long ten seconds, and then looked away. Where was this kindly world she had drawn so rosily in fancy? Disillusion everywhere.
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