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He pumped as she raised her legs obediently. ” “Thanks to me,” he repeated, puzzled. He was a handsome man, and Lucy could see the strong resemblance of John to him. “Tell me,” she insisted, “why you look like that. You disgust me. And he hazarded a wink at the poet over the paper on which he was sketching. The freezing water lapped around her ankles as she ran along its edge, marveling at the thousands of tiny white spiral shells the tide had brought in.
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