"I understand, Sir," replied Davies, drawing a little aside. She drank and drank until his body was a lifeless husk, as light as a mannequin, virtually hollow of all but the fluid in his bones. We smirk, and we’re a bit—furtive. With a rustle of her full lilac petticoats, Miss Froxfield turned back to Alderley. She felt the whack from about six feet away, kitty corner. At this point Lucy, in an effort perhaps—foolhardy, in Gerald’s opinion—to pour oil on troubled waters, rose swiftly to her feet and came towards the old man, her hand held out.
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