Of course Nicholas was bound to give her a French name. And, when I have seen him pining away before my eyes, getting thinner and thinner every day, I have sometimes thought my prayers were heard. “Admirably, thank you,” Anna answered. “Do you think you’ll ever get married, Lucy?” Lucy shifted uncomfortably as she pulled her makeshift nightgown—an old T-shirt—over her head. She opened it and imbibed.
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