’ Chapter Five ‘Now then, young Jack,’ Gerald said, turning to the lad, who was sitting in the place lately vacated by his self-appointed mistress, but in a state of far less relaxation. Lucy sat paralyzed, as still as Tiger Lily on the death raft. He stood on the top step for a moment, lost in deep thought. I suppose it depends on her own state of mind. His scent was like sweet perfume in her state, like the sweet smell of infants.
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