It was Sunday evening—a soft delicious evening, and, from the happy, cheerful look of the house, none would have dreamed of the dismal tragedy so lately acted within its walls. \" Lucy winced. The man’s hand flashed out, but immediately afterwards an oath and a cry of pain broke from his lips. If he took a fancy to you, he invited you to the house for tea, bitter and yellow and served in little cups without handles. She saw how overworked he was.
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