” He passed his hand wearily over his forehead. Lord, what a state I was in! Night after night I sat there, I watched her come in, I watched her go. “Mary Lucia. He was walking listlessly along, well-dressed, debonnair, good-looking. I must apologize for my young puppy of a clerk. She is, in her way, a dear. They drove around town that night in his Buick convertible. Lucy sighed, finding it odd to switch roles as she had over the past weeks. She found herself anxious to read more of him, and the next Wednesday she went to the British Museum and hunted first among the half-crown magazines for his essays and then through various scientific quarterlies for his research papers. '—'No fear o' that,' thought I.
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