Far away there was the one woman for this boy of mine—some human being who would understand the dear fool better than all the rest of the world. “Good God!” he exclaimed. Neither the manners, the looks, nor the attire of these gentlemen prepossessed Mrs. ‘Jacques!’ Melusine dropped to her haunches beside his inert form, feeling for the wound. You are the one person I can understand and feel—feel right with. At least the sun would not be as bright, which was a welcome reprieve from the mercilessly bright early summer days which had invigorated every man, woman, and child in the suburbs but were wearing Lucy down into acute fatigue, along with her hunger.
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