The day had become suddenly overcast. “Why won’t you sleep in my bed tonight, Lucia, where 80 it’s warm?” He asked her one night, teasing but mournful, as she stood in her bedroom doorway in a long white gown. For the first time he seemed to wonder what it might be that she had to confess. And, also, she wanted to borrow that money. “I am afraid,” she said, “that he must have a skeleton key to these rooms. "On my soul, yes," rejoined Jonathan. One learns to sit up. Bring your liveralong?" "I sometimes wonder if I have any—if it isn't the hole where it was that aches.
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