The girl stood with her hands behind her back, sulky, resolute, and intelligent, a strand of her black hair over one eye and looking more than usually delicate-featured, and more than ever like an obdurate child. She held out her hand for it, but Gerald smiled. . “But why, Lucy? Who is it 145 that you are trying to hide from? John?” Lucy closed her eyes in earnest. . She entered the kitchen.
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