Mr. Lucia, you will come to love me and all the blessings of the Lord that marriage brings. “I’m fine,” she said softly. 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. These little squares of coloured paper interested her mightily—hotel labels. Awkwardly, he closed his eyes and fumbled for a kiss.
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