But such was the violence of his grief,—such the compunction he exhibited, that all but one looked on with an eye of compassion. I have it on my conscience that I offended you—” “Offended me when?” “I’ve been haunted by the memory of you. I was curious about that. ” Lucy yanked him into the hidden door to Room 109, a door to the backstage that looked like the entrance to a broom closet.
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