She waited expectantly. His countenance was almost as white and rigid as that of the corpse by his side. The Chapel 401 XX. Lucy looked at the stains on the threadbare carpeting to distract herself, embarrassed to her core. The hard work will be his, until we yank this young fellow back from the brink. Take my advice. She laughed softly, and leaned across the table. He leaned towards her, laid his hand tenderly upon hers. Observe it—a blue-serge coat.
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