He saw her young and graceful back as she descended from the carriage, severely ignoring him, and recalled a glimpse he had of her face, bright and serene, as his train ran out of Wimbledon. His baggy shorts sagged over knobby knees that tapered into decrepit Reebok sneakers. It had her raven locks, her pouting lips. Lucy studied Katy for the rest of the game. " Winifred's eyes filled with tears. At the least, the tales had the ability to make her forget where she was; which was something in their favour.
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