He saw the colossal selfishness of his act; but he could not beg off on the plea of abnormality. “About my sister,” she repeated slowly. She had a bittersweet fragrance, like dusty books and honeysuckle. ‘Here we go again. “Why won’t you sleep in my bed tonight, Lucia, where 80 it’s warm?” He asked her one night, teasing but mournful, as she stood in her bedroom doorway in a long white gown. By the will of Mr.
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