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“Why won’t you sleep in my bed tonight, Lucia, where 80 it’s warm?” He asked her one night, teasing but mournful, as she stood in her bedroom doorway in a long white gown. “Odd!” he remarked, rather surprisingly, after a little interval. I had to sell out, you see, when my father died, for the estate is in my hands. The overnight nervous strain began to tell; she became inattentive to the work before her, and it did not get on. “Sorry to be so terribly rude, Martin. " "Both are dead," observed the knight, gloomily. We have lived under the same roof, but our ways seem to have lain wide apart.
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