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“When did you get home last night, Lucy?” Cathy interrogated through a yawn. It was maddening to be made to feel that he was in any way the inferior of this cool, self-possessed young woman, whose eyes seemed for a moment to scintillate with scorn. I can esteem him, regard him; but, love him as he ought to be loved—that I cannot do. ‘Burned them, one by one, right before that fellow’s eyes. The sun was setting when she carried the metal garbage can to the curb with their remains in it, where they sat underneath the stale chocolate cake that Sheila had thrown away and a pile of mildewy lettuce. ’ ‘Pottiswick, you mean, miss?’ ‘Yes, yes.
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