Mother had forced Lucy to memorize the ingredients of the stews, fairly beating them into her, spanking her backside when she rebelled. " "Peace!" retorted Jack, with increased bitterness. “No, Lucy, because Satan does not exist. He is already married. She had looked up from her seat at the small round table in the centre of the parlour which, together with the wooden armchairs beside the small fireplace, and a sideboard next the single casement, was all the furniture the place afforded. Gerald’s gaze bored into hers. She said as much to him.
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