\" Lucy lied. She did not wince. Instead had come this storm, this shouting, this weeping, this confusion of threats and irrelevant appeals. ’ ‘Gad, but she’s a beauty,’ gasped Hilary, and slammed his sword back in its scabbard. “It’s the warming up of the year, the coming of the light mornings, the way in which everything begins to run about and begin new things.
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