Perhaps it had been pick-pocketed or jostled from her dress in a hunt. While he was stirring his tea, she ran and fetched the comb. Lucy changed into her Goodwill jeans and sweatshirt, plastering her hair down with an elastic band and securing it under a tight hood. It was one of the secret troubles of her mind, this grotesque twist her ideas would sometimes take, as though they rebelled and rioted. The perfume was the only one she ever used. . ” “How? Show me. Then she fell into a fever of remorse for the habit of bad language she had acquired.
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