’ Lucy was silent for a space, once again wearing that inscrutable expression. " "Anything, my dear," replied Wood, "What is it?" "Bury us together in one grave in Willesden churchyard. This is your moment. He must be gone to dispose of the body. You want music. “You know I’m old-fashioned, Miss Stanley. She lingered over donning her winter coat, buttoning each toggle and placket, double knotting her long scarf. "I feel like work," he lied.
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