The thought caused him an odd kind of pang—of pity, naturally. [Illustration: Distinctive Pictures Photoplay. They heard his footsteps descending the stone staircase, growing fainter and fainter. She bent down. He had promised her some books, for she had voiced her hunger for stories. She fled. ” His shoulders relaxed. A hand of iron fell upon the scowling young man’s shoulder. ” Lucy observed, watching her friend. “I wonder,” he said, and went off at a tangent. He sent me home.
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