She dragged the broken bottle across her carotid artery, creating an inch-deep gash upon her throat. Lucy blushed from toes to forehead, feeling her pace accelerate. What was the alternative to going home? No alternative appeared in that darkness. Arrived in Paris she remembered that she had not the money for a fiacre. "Ay, Sir, from the Secretary of State, for your arrest! You're charged with hightreason. I WAS talking to him before I saw his name on the card beside the row of microscopes. The rich, heavy food sat in her stomach like so many soft pebbles.
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