With his tongue lolling and his flea-bitten stump wagging apologetically, he glanced from face to face to see if there was any forgiveness visible. Soon they came to treat Lucy almost as mother, pulling hard at her brown curls and laughing delightedly as they sprang back into their spiral shape. ” Lucy commented as the mud was smoothed around the grave site. That last year in Paris, when Annabel and she had lived in different worlds, had often been a nightmare to her. ” Anna measured out the coffee.
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