“My dear sweet Lucia. ’ ‘That is what you think? Eh bien. ” She realized it was possible to be sorry for him—acutely sorry for the situation. By instinct. Still —there you are!” He paused. I once might have married you for your beauty,—now I marry you for your wealth. She was supposed to be reading at home, and after breakfast she strolled into the vegetable garden, and having taken up a position upon the staging of a disused greenhouse that had the double advantage of being hidden from the windows of the house and secure from the sudden appearance of any one, she resumed the reading of Mr.
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