‘What has that to say to anything?’ ‘Nothing at all,’ smiled Lucy nervously. The subject matter was generally worthless, but the handling was well done. She held her hand to the place where he had slapped her. “I was really interested in his stuff. Lucy's ears were singing. A bobbing lantern, crossing the bridge—for she had not drawn the curtain—attracted her attention. She stood up before him, smiling faintly.
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