“Mary!” He whispered loudly. It hardly served his interests. Soon the trunk, portmanteau and hat box were ready. ” Lucy commented as the mud was smoothed around the grave site. S. “About my sister,” she repeated slowly. She began to miss him when he was gone during the day and cherish the quiet times he spent only with her. All the king's horses and all the king's men could not undo what was done; nor kill the strange exquisite flower that had grown up in his own lonely heart. He flung open the door and cast a quick glance round. ‘What did you do with the portrait then? Not that I suppose it is much use any longer.
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