Applying his ear to the keyhole, Jack listened, but could detect no sound. He leaned back in a low chair, and watched her graceful movements, the play of her white hands as she bent over some wonderful machine. “No, stay, Lucy. The house was eerily silent, which alerted her to the idea that someone might be listening. . “John! Welcome! Happy Thanksgiving!” Cathy cried, ushering him deeper into the house.
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