’ ‘Yes, indeed,’ agreed Lucilla enthusiastically. She doubted how she stood toward him and what the restrained gleam of his face might signify. The preparations to meet him were immense, roses were planted everywhere, white and drooping with honeyed fragrance. “I shall probably want you to come down to the ‘Unusual’ to-morrow morning,” he said. Pews had been brought in and set in two rows before the huge table, covered in white cloth, that formed the altar at the far end. I can vouch for that. .
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