He tasted like cinders and ash, but not of smoke. Lucy felt her heart splinter in her breast. ‘The old man who lives here, idiot. There sprang from that a vague hope that perhaps she might extort a capitulation from her father by a threat to seek that position, and then with overwhelming clearness it came to her that whatever happened she would never be able to tell her father about her debt. Lucy clasped her hands over her ears as it screamed. Too close, he reasoned, for safety.
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