“Dear me! I wonder what I ought to do. Her feathered hat fell from her head and down her back, and she felt fingers writhing in the mass of her hair and caressing the flesh of her neck beneath so that she shivered uncontrollably. Lucy crouched by the side of the grave, her head in her hands, rocking back and forth. " "I should like to satisfy myself on that score," rejoined Wild, drily. "You know this is a pet project. ” “Why not? Your spirits at least should be good.
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