Standing over the pierced Rhea, Lucy bayed, a long cry that was half-scream and half-howl. Good night!" She pressed his hand and went out. Her father was an astute businessman and a hard worker, but also handsome in the face which had aided partly his ascension to the Guild. Then she fell into a fever of remorse for the habit of bad language she had acquired. She had never experienced anything so disagreeable in her life as the sense of being held helplessly off her feet. His reputation was slightly tainted by his marriage to her mother, an exotic blue-eyed raven-haired beauty, a Gypsy doll with a clandestine heritage. And behind— there was Paris, memories of amazing things, memories which made his cheeks burn and his heart beat quickly as he sat there waiting for her. Luckily, they were not easily discomposed.
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