“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. Feigning an air of casualness, Lucy asked the obvious. Fine woman, Lady Trafford—a little on the wane though. It's right Nantz. It was no marriage at all. You have your work before you, and I——” He kissed her on the lips.
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