" At the sound of his voice every vestige of colour fled from Winifred's cheeks, and the work upon which she was engaged fell from her hand. “What happened to your parents, Lucy? Is it all right if I ask?” Lucy looked at her with a soft gaze. His eyes were bright, and his voice had in it an unaccustomed timbre. He then stamped upon the hand on the lower bannister, until that also relaxed its gripe. Stanley poured wine.
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