126 Lucy drank them as the first rays of watery sunlight seeped through the mullioned windows, then put their husks in the claw-footed bathtub. She admired and rather pitied him, and she was unfeignedly grateful to him. It’s—it’s a social difference. It was a port of call, since fortnightly a British mail-boat dropped her mudhook in the bay. If she has no children, she goes on loving her husband; but he is no longer a man but a child. ” “WHAT?” said Ann Veronica, startled.
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