“But why, Lucy? Who is it 145 that you are trying to hide from? John?” Lucy closed her eyes in earnest. We ourselves have been similarly circumstanced. The father was a madman. "Is your master at home?" inquired the jailer. The wine was sweetened with cinnamon and cloves and rare edible flowers, which her father had instructed her not to drink excessively of. Lucy's grin faded. "It's a whale of a place. I would that you were my own.
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