It was as if she had come upon the beautiful marble façade of a fairy palace, was invited to enter, and behind the door—nothing. Instead of English villas and cottages there were chalets and Italian-built houses shining white; there were lakes of emerald and sapphire and clustering castles, and such sweeps of hill and mountain, such shining uplands of snow, as she had never seen before. Without Sheila, the denizens of the neighborhood might forget they had the ability to communicate with each other. ’ ‘I am relieved to hear it. ” Lucy said, marveling at the intricate cockpit of a model helicopter. "You hear that," cried Mrs. Heaven forbid. I wouldn't accept my life from him.
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