” She replied dryly. ” She smiled. Her foster father had been outside for most of the morning, working on trimming the maple trees and mowing the lawn. She felt sickeningly empty. Lucy savored the normalcy of the scene. The bliss had lasted one hundred and forty years, far more than an entire mortal lifetime. Every movable mirror had been placed here, to discourage vanity, and since no whitewash covered the brocaded purple wallpaper, its pervasive hue gave an added sense of heaviness to the crowded chamber.
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