“Do you think you’ll ever get married, Lucy?” Lucy shifted uncomfortably as she pulled her makeshift nightgown—an old T-shirt—over her head. "' Instead of regarding him, Jack glanced over the iron bannisters, and measured the distance. The day was warm even under an overcast sky and Hilary, uncomfortable, shifted his weight. He was painfully in earnest, too. “Life’s so queer,” she said, kneeling and looking into the flames. It goes to my heart to disappoint you, but this thing must not be.
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