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And thus it was that she came upon a book of Stevenson's verse—her first adventure into poetry. No breakfast, he’s had no dinner, hardly a mouthful of soup— since yesterday at tea. I can't help looking at you frequently. \" It was a lie: Lucy ate one forced meal a day, supper. I’m a soldier, you see. \" \"Good night, Mom. He has hanged twelve of his associates already.
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