’ ‘That’s fortunate,’ murmured Lucilla. She twisted to meet him and folded into his embrace. While the cloth was laid, the host and Thames descended to the cellar, whence they returned, laden with a number of flasks of the same form, and apparently destined to the same use as those depicted in Hogarth's delectable print—the Modern Midnight Conversation. But if I painted her as I'd like to, the natives would instantly distrust me; and I'd have to build up confidence all over again. Lucy's grin faded.
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