She could read that Martin had a crush on her and was perhaps even going to try and challenge John as he was the bold sort. ’ ‘That’s fortunate,’ murmured Lucilla. Her sadness was manageable only because she was so familiar with its phases, because she could observe its moods remotely, like an astronomer studying the moon. Anything that might stir the sense of love And God has mocked me through it all. Walking to the station with him. The passion of pent-up speech compelled action of some sort.
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