” “John, do you remember me at all?” “Lucy?!” He cried in disbelief. The girl was like some north-country woodland pool, penetrated by a single shaft of sunlight—beautifully clear in one spot and mysteriously obscured elsewhere. She went to a writing-desk and made some memoranda on a sheet of note-paper, and then remembered that she had no address as yet to which letters could be sent. Ann Veronica was lying on her bed in a darkling room staring at the ceiling. She pulled the door so that it was not quite to, and held out her hand, palm up.
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