Lucy felt the hairs on her neck rise. “I found not one but two photos when I researched the death of the McCloskeys. “I WILL be arrested! I WON’T go home!” the little old lady was screaming over and over again. If it came at all, it was as fleeting as the girl's smile. Here was a poor half-naked creature, with a straw crown on his head, and a wooden sceptre in his hand, seated on the ground with all the dignity of a monarch on his throne. Then, I thought, she has repented, all will be well. "How?" cried her brother, starting.
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