Shrinking involuntarily back into the farthest corner of the seat, Jack buried his face in his hands. Dizzily, she grabbed at the mantel for support and, resting her head on her hands, paid no heed to a betraying sound behind her—until an unexpected arm encircled her. Clarice loved babies as much as Lucia did and chattered about them day and night. He's an interpretative genius, if there ever was one. ‘Lawks-a-mussy! It’s Miss Mary.
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