“Lucy!” He whispered into her ear beneath a dusty curtain cloud. The Wastrel wiped the blood from his forehead. The carpet was a quiet drugget and not excessively worn, and the bed in the corner was covered by a white quilt. The late afternoon, en effet. “It was unpleasant while it lasted, but it is over —and my toasted scones are delicious. " Taking the keys, he led the way, followed by Jonathan, who chuckled internally at the shock that awaited the poor fellow. I’ve had a lot on my mind.
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