. He entered it; crossed the room, in which there was only a small truckle-bed, over which he stumbled; opened another door and gained the stair-head. She changed into a halter top and a pair of tight jeans herself, and let Lucy brush her long, glossy hair as they talked about mascara, schoolwork, and boys. His voice now had lost its ironies. “Perhaps,” he said, “I have been to blame. “You’re so unbelievably beautiful, Lucy. All right. I don't care how soon he learns that he has lost his adopted son.
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