One Friday afternoon, in this pleasant month, it chanced that Mr. Ray Plote would not leave a written explanation. Lucy tried not to make her cringe noticeable. Then there came briskly along the path towards her, an Englishman. “Hotel Ritz!” Chapter XXXI ANNA’S TEA PARTY “I suppose you haven’t the least idea who I am,” Lady Lescelles said, as she settled herself in Anna’s most comfortable chair.
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