At sight of his wan features, she forgot the urgency of her need for a moment, and fell to her knees at his bedside, placing her hands on his slack ones where they lay on the soiled coverlet. Standing over the pierced Rhea, Lucy bayed, a long cry that was half-scream and half-howl. For a few days he was able to relegate his conscience to the background. " "It came from Lady Trafford's jewel-box. “How did you hear that?” Lucy’s brows knitted. He reached over and took her hand.
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