Mark stayed away from Lucy, which was just as Sheila liked it. Having ascertained that Thames was at his heels, he hurried with his ghastly burthen down Seacoal Lane. 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.
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