I’m sorry Lucy. “It was inevitable,” he declared. She could have traded it for gold nuggets and lived like a queen for a few weeks, but she did not. . John found Lucy after his Advanced Geometry class. Her figure, though slight, had all the fulness of health; and her complexion—still pale, but without its former sickly cast,—contrasted agreeably, by its extreme fairness, with the dark brows and darker lashes that shaded eyes which, if they had lost some of their original brilliancy, had gained infinitely more in the soft and chastened lustre that replaced it.
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