CHAPTER XXIV. Anyhow, she’s disappeared for some reason or other. ‘I can’t think how I’ve tolerated myself all these years. ” She sat very still. Lucy felt her heart splinter in her breast. He dissected rather awkwardly and hurriedly, but, on the whole, effectively, and drew with an impatient directness that made up in significance what it lacked in precision. She lingered over donning her winter coat, buttoning each toggle and placket, double knotting her long scarf. “I have hurt my father,” she said; “I have hurt my aunt.
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