‘You have said you do not wish to marry me,’ she accused. Soon they came to treat Lucy almost as mother, pulling hard at her brown curls and laughing delightedly as they sprang back into their spiral shape. The material cares of life hang about your neck like a millstone. “I wonder,” she said, “why one writes him sentences like that? It’ll have to go,” she decided, “I’ve written too many already. ’ He added pointedly, ‘Early this morning that were. The fire still burned brightly. ’ Still the girl said nothing. You’ve got me. I did think it could be done.
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