He regretted— more deeply than he could say—the occurrence of this evening. Also Lucy, who had been so much her friend. The grate was full of fluttering ashes of burnt paper, and the easy chair near the fire had evidently been used. The carpet was a quiet drugget and not excessively worn, and the bed in the corner was covered by a white quilt. ” Her father interrupted. “He looks as though he did, at any rate. ‘What?’ Roding snapped, coming quickly to tower above the window seat. Nervously he pulled alongside the dilapidated oncewhite farmhouse.
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