But he was now too deeply moved to trace a certain unsatisfactoriness to its source in a mixture of metaphors. ‘As for you—’ ‘Do not address me. “Just forget it, Lucy! Keep your secrets to yourself!” He stomped out, slamming the heavily paneled oak door. “You’re great, Lucy! I had no idea you were so great!” John exclaimed. She is no longer mine; she is yours.
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