C. Lucy felt her eyes misting up, turning traitor. “It is possible,” Courtlaw said, “that you too were deceived. Moored to the steps, several wherries were dancing in the rushing current, as if impatient of restraint. He returned the locket without comment. We remember it. It is always on his person. It is better to face the truth. Lucy had tried for years to find a way of not getting blood all over herself when she made a kill. The smell of gunpowder was strong in the room.
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