Lucy tried not to notice the starched smell, overpowering and powdery. She was dressed in a simple evening gown of soft creamy silk, with a yoke of dark old embroidery that enhanced the gentle gravity of her style, and her black hair flowed off her open forehead to pass under the control of a simple ribbon of silver. As Jack conjectured, no one was there, and, though a lamp was burning on a stand, they decided upon proceeding without it. ” “But I didn’t lose it that way, did I?” She grew hysterical.
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