\" She said, looking beside him at a taller boy who appeared to be bored. “Why won’t you sleep in my bed tonight, Lucia, where 80 it’s warm?” He asked her one night, teasing but mournful, as she stood in her bedroom doorway in a long white gown. Was he really awake? The arrival and departure of this strange father lacked the essential human touch to make it real. Suspicion was in his face. Wood having laid hold of the canvass-bag.
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