Unwillingly he drew a little nearer, and became one of the group of loiterers about the entrance. You’re a far cry from your usual gloomy self these days. Lucy tried not to notice the starched smell, overpowering and powdery. “I wonder if they will seem altered,” she remarked for the third time. He wore a threecornered hat, a sandy-coloured scratch wig, and had a thick woollen wrapper folded round his throat. It’s for you to say if I may sit on it.
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