CHAPTER XXVII. The air was sweet with the perfume of flowers, and the melody of murmuring insects, the blue sky was cloudless, the heat of the sun was tempered by the heather-scented west wind. She let out a delighted laugh. You might tell the truth to some men, but never to him. Come and see him, Lucia. "And someday let him care for me!" She sprang up, alarmed. Lord help him! he's the very image of his father. Nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
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