Michelle looked at Lucy knowingly. Behind them stalked Blueskin, enveloped in a rough great-coat, called—appropriately enough in this instance,—a wrap-rascal. Her faithful servant struggled, with her assistance, to rise. ” She pressed her ear to the door. John’s father piped up, bored with the conversation, and asked, “Where do you get your blue eyes, Lucy? What nationality are you?” “I’m mostly Italian, but I get my blue eyes from my mother, who was Gypsy. She used to play violin, you know.
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