” “But, my dear Peter!” said Miss Stanley. ” Lucy walked out of her bedroom door following Mike down the tiny hall. Either she had been seen, or they were seeking the air. He fancied that when they had had time to reflect, they would regret it still more. The scent of cloying pine dust filled the air as floodlights shone eerily through the jungle gym of new wood. The chromatic fiction with which he relieved his mind glanced but slightly at this aspect of life, and never with any quality of guidance.
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