My name is Armytage—Lord Ernest Armytage. My poor brain is so mixed, dear, I hardly know what I am saying. But she no longer felt Jacomo’s age, even if she looked it. She thought gleefully of the dress she would get to wear for the Ball (Prom?) and could not wait to tell her foster family about how excited she was. . ‘Who telled you that?’ ‘Do not ask me impertinent questions, but only go you and fetch this daughter here to me.
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