” Lucy spat. Not at all. " Upon which, he set off in the direction of the entry. “Surely!” he remarked, with an expression of worried appeal. Her personal maidservant, the first she had ever had in her life, was joyful for her. And through it all, like a golden thread on a piece of tapestry, weaving in and out of the patterns, the unspoken longing for love. "I should think so," responded the lethargic turnkey, with a yawn.
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