Ireton rushed forward to open the wicket for him. “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. She longed to own something lasting, anything, but knew her wishes to be stupid. ’ ‘That wasn’t my fault. You shall behold him. She hesitated, and for a moment thought of omitting her second verse altogether.
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