Clotilde pried Fritz from Lucy’s left leg where he was clinging. Altogether, it was the most dreadful noise he had ever heard. She spent a very disagreeable afternoon and evening—it was raining fast outside, and she had very unwisely left her soundest pair of boots in the boothole of her father’s house in Morningside Park—thinking over the economic situation and planning a course of action. Her amusement fled and she stared at him, as a slow thump began beating at her breast.
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