The address was of course her destination, thousands of miles away, an infinitesimal spot in a terrifying space. She staggered to the fireplace and thrust it into the heart of the dying flames. Just what in the world was that about? Before he could hazard a guess, Lucy looked back at him. “A woman wants a proper alliance with a man, a man who is better stuff than herself. I thank God for the beauty you love and the faults you love. And he hazarded a wink at the poet over the paper on which he was sketching.
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