She had heard the trader utter it many times. "The lash cuts to the bone. They were childless and servantless, and they had reduced simple living to the finest of fine arts. ’ ‘And you believe her?’ asked Lucilla, raising her brows. She imagined descending the stairs, hearing Mike’s uproarious laughter as she peeked around a vacant corner with a lump in her throat. “No, he wouldn’t come here of all places—just now. ” Lucy’s eyes smiled and a weary closed lipped smile arose on her face.
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