Lucy was summarily introduced to Martin’s parents. "Friends!" echoed Kneebone, with a look of dismay. At least, you are one, and I am disguised like one. On the way, he hired a chair with a couple of stout porters, and ordered them to follow him. He did not pocket it, but sat hefting it lightly from hand to hand, watching the girl thoughtfully. But it is not your name.
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