” Horace, the manservant, transformed now into the semblance of a correctly garbed waiter, threw open the door. “Your great success has been my joy, our joy as well as yours. Lucy crouched by the side of the grave, her head in her hands, rocking back and forth. Without a single ornament about her neck, or hair, wearing the plainest of black gowns, out of which her shoulders shone gleaming white, she was easily the most noticeable and the most distinguished-looking woman in the room. But what did he know beyond these facts? Nothing, clearly.
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