Lucy could feel blood welling underneath a bump half swelling and already half-healing on her scalp. "Ruth, you must not come and sit on the threshold. ‘You! Tell this fool who is the keeper here to come to me at once. He kissed her fingers and grinned. Englishmen also certainly. His clothes were smartly pressed, his linen white, his jaws cleanly shaven; but the day would come when he would grow indifferent to bodily cleanliness.
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