” As Lucy got up to fetch Michelle a box of tissue, her mind spun wildly. But some day she would find a place to love: there would be rosy apples on the boughs, and there would be flurries of snow blowing into her face. "But, I own, I think it is like. “And, after all, I am just one common person!” She watched the throb of the arteries in the stem of her neck, and put her hand at last gently and almost timidly to where her heart beat beneath her breast.
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