"Where am I?" she cried, passing her hand across her brow. Lucy inhaled deeply. Friday was not a big dinner night at the Beck house. She could feel Martin’s eyes boring into her as she entered the room, her own personal Farhat. "The worst house in the neighbourhood—the constant haunt of reprobates and thieves," groaned Wood. ’ ‘You little fiend,’ exclaimed Gerald wrathfully. He was in love with her! She tried to grasp all the welter of values in the situation simultaneously, and draw some conclusion from their disorder.
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