“As I have explained many a time, Lucia, the maladies of the blood and flesh do not afflict us. ’ She dropped to her knees before her old nurse and hugged the workroughened hand with both her own, looking up into Martha’s face where slow tears were tracing down her cheek. Do you want me, too?” “Yes,” she whispered foolishly, in the throes of rapture. Jackson smiled and put on the air of a man who knows more than he cares to tell.
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