The performance over, he relaxed and closed his eyes. He took about five minutes. “She must go her own way. ‘Come, mademoiselle, it is of no use to conceal anything from me, you know. ” “John, do you remember me at all?” “Lucy?!” He cried in disbelief. “Come this way,” he said. Lucy could see the anger in her silhouette, the punishments and the grounding being formulated for the now dead daughter. Journeying blindly half way across the world, this man had found his quarry. Her pulses began to race.
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