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"That's a good story, lad. Know that, don’t you?’ ‘Of course I know it,’ Lucy told him, and Melusine read the whisper in her mouth of those precious words, ‘I love you. There was a shrill cry, instantly succeeded by a deep splash. He walked in her direction. Lucy thought of a song that she had not been able to get out of her head since the Fifties. “Queer letters he writes,” she said. "Don't mention it," returned Wood, in the conciliatory tone of one who admits he has been in the wrong; "your explanation is perfectly satisfactory. There one comes to a relationship that Mr.
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