At the recollection that it was his, she seemed to fall through a thin surface, as one might fall through the crust of a lava into glowing depths. “It’s the stir of spring,” he said. It did not occur to her that they at least had found a way of earning a living, and had that much economic superiority to herself. “When did you get home last night, Lucy?” Cathy interrogated through a yawn. “Yes, John. “Mr.
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