” Lucy yanked him into the hidden door to Room 109, a door to the backstage that looked like the entrance to a broom closet. “Why?” “I still love you. She was dressed in a simple evening gown of soft creamy silk, with a yoke of dark old embroidery that enhanced the gentle gravity of her style, and her black hair flowed off her open forehead to pass under the control of a simple ribbon of silver. Planting his knee against her side, he pulled her towards him with one hand, while with the other he sought his knife.
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