Lucy had baked the apple and pumpkin pies, carefully molding the flour crusts and adding extra teaspoonfuls of allspice and cinnamon while no one looked. It was just then that she came face to face with Nigel Ennison. Apparently he had projected beyond his table some hypnotic thought, for it had held him all through the dining hour. A day will come when you will thank me. To-night she could have hugged both the old maids. \"Thanks, Mike. ” “I know. She’s naïve, and yet uncannily shrewd at times, and you daren’t rely on anything she says. Or had you not noticed?’ He sneered. ” Lucy implored. Pause.
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