Lucy jammed her foot down onto Mark McCloskey’s forehead. She got out of bed, her eyes still half-closed, and stood slack jawed. The boy was bright and inquisitive as he was subtle. She plucked at the knots of her racket and heard him to the end, then spoke in a restrained undertone. Then Ramage appeared with effusion, and ushered her into his inner apartment. “Don’t you understand, Nigel,” she said softly, “that it was precisely for this I have worked so hard. The cheating of the boys in the stores ceased.
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