Lucy was silent. This had well nigh been the case with the carpenter. Had he had the child to think of, he might have recovered from his grief at Mary’s death. "I cannot remain here long. A jar of pink roses upon a tiny table seemed to gain an extra delicacy of colour from the sombre curtains behind. He did not disturb any of this litter, but left it as a mark of his prowess. She stole a few glances at John as she stood and played the pieces. She glanced at him and made a dismissive gesture. He cocked an eyebrow.
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