I said, ‘It is no use your telling me about this walk and pretend I’ve been told about the ball, because you haven’t. Books! She knew now what had saved her—her mother's hand, reaching down from heaven, had set the giver's flaming eyes upon the covers of these books. Lucy went downstairs to prepare the hot cocoa that would be the last hot drink of the season, ruefully spiking the liquid with Nytol, just one tablet dissolved in a little warm water. “I will be off,” she declared. But she doesn’t and won’t divorce me.
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