She breathed deeply, and he breathed sympathetically. “I heard your voices, and the hall is draughty. It was not for a week or a month. I’ve never had a homemade Thanksgiving meal like that. ” She patted his arm and wiped her tears away. “What were you trying to do?” Lucy asked. ‘But I am perfectly serious,’ he returned in a voice of protest. I must go and dress at once. He regretted— more deeply than he could say—the occurrence of this evening.
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