“Was he really?” She asked, waiting on baited breath. She paced restlessly to the door and back again, biting her tongue on the hot words begging to be uttered. Then, one night, he glanced up to behold Ruth and Rollo in the doorway. “Come on in. ’ Lucilla gaped. Cut to pieces —slashed—bloodied. "There," cried Jackson, closing the book and rising, "that'll do. As they kissed goodbye, she hoped that he felt the same reluctance to part.
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