As she went on, the story began to sound more and more like a recitation. “I saw you in a sort of sloping, slippery place, holding on by your hands and slipping. Lucy blushed from toes to forehead, feeling her pace accelerate. Too late now. Lucia dismissed the rumors, as it was not likely an archbishop would renege on his duties to become her personal doctor. “Until you marry, Vee,” said Hetty.
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