Sometimes it seemed that she would never recover it. Instead of English villas and cottages there were chalets and Italian-built houses shining white; there were lakes of emerald and sapphire and clustering castles, and such sweeps of hill and mountain, such shining uplands of snow, as she had never seen before. \"So, guess who just asked me to the Junior Prom?\" Lucy's eyes widened. Couldn’t make head nor tail of that note of yours.
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