Poor little one. . “Lucy, do you forgive me?” She looked at him in earnest. . Its smooth surface soothed her nerves. He would get her to come to tea with him, usually in a pleasant tea-room over a fruit-shop in Tottenham Court Road, and he would discuss his own point of view and hint at a thousand devotions were she but to command him. “Only—I have come face to face—with something terrible, and wholly unexpected trouble.
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