“Lucy, have you noticed that I don’t even own a dog?” He spoke into her hair. He was always tenderly courteous; he answered her ordinary questions readily and her extraordinary ones patiently; he always rose when she entered or left the room. Reconnoitring them through a small grated loophole, he refused to open the door till they had explained their business. She seemed to be making some sort of inventory. ‘Might have forgiven him,’ he muttered under his breath, ‘if he hadn’t taken the babe.
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