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Lucile by Owen Meredith
page 43 of 341 (12%)
STRANGER.

The season is done.


ALFRED.

Already?

STRANGER.

'Twas shorter this year than the last.
Folly soon wears her shoes out. She dances so fast
We are all of us tired.

ALFRED.

You know the place well?

STRANGER.

I have been there two seasons.

ALFRED.

Pray who is the Belle
Of the Baths at this moment?

STRANGER.

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