“Shari told me. I care not. A dark mass of wreckage, over which hung a slight mist of vapour, lay half in the ditch, half across the hedge, close under a tree from the trunk of which the bark had been torn and stripped. Lucy auditioned on a borrowed violin. The pouting cherry lips were slightly parted and the very faintest of panting breaths, together with the quick rise and fall of an alluring bosom, betrayed her fear. I should feel that I had been obliged to find some one else to fight my battles for me.
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