I must see if I have a gown fit to wear. 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. She held it away from her with an instinctive repulsion, born of her unconquerable antipathy to the touch of strangers. ‘Doesn’t she, Gerald?’ Gerald held up his hands. “There is no time for that.
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