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He had not taken many steps when he perceived Quilt Arnold in the upper gallery, with a lamp in his hand. Thunder rumbled behind the manicured hills. “Mary Lucia. Her eyes filled as she thought of him, the image of his laughing countenance coming into her mind, to be swiftly followed by a vision of the blood running from his cut hand. I'm not interested in him. With a little sigh of happiness she accepted this new thing.
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