As they careened into a parking space, Lucy clung to the upholstery so as not to be thrown against the front seats. The houses on Snow Hill were thronged, like those in Old Bailey. Small blame to her. It may be treacherous, it may lay up a store of future woe; but it insures present happiness, and that is sufficient. She used to lock Jordan and Josiah in the closet when they were toddlers.
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