Then she would be dead, and that was no use. She has given herself up to social work. But for the next few days he avoided Cheveney like the plague. It was most amusing. At this point Lucy, in an effort perhaps—foolhardy, in Gerald’s opinion—to pour oil on troubled waters, rose swiftly to her feet and came towards the old man, her hand held out. Cathy stood in the bedroom hallway in her faded blue bathrobe.
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