He talked in the same style, and pretty nearly in the same language; laughed in the same manner, and coughed, or sneezed at the same time. ’ His eyes found the girl again, and he added rancorously, ‘Giving birth to you. “Just forget it, Lucy! Keep your secrets to yourself!” He stomped out, slamming the heavily paneled oak door. As she did so, the ruffles to the jacket of her riding habit fell away, exposing livid blue bruises about her wrist, ugly in the light of day from the window at their back.
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