Jonathan stepped behind a curtain. He told her something about music, the great world outside. "We must keep still. “Do you think you’ll ever get married, Lucy?” Lucy shifted uncomfortably as she pulled her makeshift nightgown—an old T-shirt—over her head. And, if I'd my own way, I'd drown 'em all like a litter o' puppies. Little did I imagine at the time that it was my own father to whom he referred. " "Lord, that's just the lesson I've been expounding! It isn't a question of fear; it's one of propriety.
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