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But I was sorry for poor Jack—as I am still, and hoped he would mend. Sometimes the music would be tender and dreamy, like a native mother's crooning to her young; sometimes it would be so gay that the flesh tingled and the feet were urged to dance; again, it would be like the storms crashing, thunderous. “You’ve been sneaking out just as often as Mary Lucia. " He ignored the command. That was an admission all right. “Forgive my coming in,” she said to Ennison. The both of them puttering about the tidy two-story house, Lucy would serve them both steaming cups of tea in the front parlor.
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