Tonight Lucy doled out outré physiological theories of boys and their overactive hormones. She sat very still, and his eyes rested on that ornament for a moment, and then travelled slowly to her wrist and the soft lines of her forearm. The joy of being loved thrilled her as nothing before had ever done, a curious abstract joy which had nothing in it at that moment of regret or even pity. Wood with the circumstances, and putting him upon his guard against the possibility of an attack.
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