“I’m sorry Mister McCloskey! I was out seeing my boyfriend!” He stared at her concernedly. “What is the good of pretending?” she said. ‘What has that to say to anything?’ ‘Nothing at all,’ smiled Lucy nervously. The road which wound by Westbourne Green, gave him a full view of the hill of Hampstead with its church, its crest of houses, and its villas peeping from out the trees. ” Lucy walked out of her bedroom door following Mike down the tiny hall.
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