“Why won’t you sleep in my bed tonight, Lucia, where 80 it’s warm?” He asked her one night, teasing but mournful, as she stood in her bedroom doorway in a long white gown. This was not the sort of confession which he had been expecting. It was such an unexpected stroke of fortune. She was a large, resilient girl, with a foolish smile, a still more foolish expression of earnestness, and a throaty contralto voice. “I must explain to her. She awoke at 11:12 am, her foster sister snoring in the bed across the room. " "Say the word, and I'm mum," returned the executioner.
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