‘Sir?’ enquired the lad. He crawled underneath the covers with her. She tucked her stick under her arm and re-read Manning’s letter. Racing, he reached it perhaps a moment or two later. Day after day—five, to be exact—she had returned to Morgan's; and each time the man would understand what had drawn her, and with a kindly smile would sit down at the piano and play. Good night!" She pressed his hand and went out. Lucy was filled with happiness, it was her third Christmas at the Becks. “I do,” Anna answered. “Want to see the upstairs?” “Sure.
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