God, Lucy, what’s it been, how many years?” “I’m so sorry, John. She pushed. “This is mere nonsense, mere tongue-tied fear!” she said. She saw his purpose and his doubt hesitated also, and then went to him, took his coat lapels, and kissed him on the cheek. Mere formality. ‘Now you see why it is I no longer require the proof of which I have spoken.
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