I hated him. ” She shivered. He opened it—just off-hand, and then when he saw what it was he hit at the table and sent his soup spoon flying and splashing on to the tablecloth. She meant to leave anyway, or so she would tell herself later. ‘We mean you no harm,’ he said reassuringly. A few steps brought him to the door of the vault in which his mother was immured. “But why, Lucy? Who is it 145 that you are trying to hide from? John?” Lucy closed her eyes in earnest.
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