After all, what did it matter?—it or anything else in the world? She was within reach of his arms, beautiful, compelling, herself as it seemed suddenly conscious of the light which was burning in his eyes. ‘Wait! At least tell me where I can find you. “But why, Lucy? Who is it 145 that you are trying to hide from? John?” Lucy closed her eyes in earnest. There are way-stations—even terminals. 92 She did not notice the police car sitting near the Beck house until they were pulling into the driveway.
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