“Promise. Marina had retired to bed, drinking wine slowly, sleeping when she was not drinking. Sebastian observed coolly, savoring the outline of Lucy’s feral figure hunching over Michelle’s gradually diminishing body. She followed Oxford Street into Holborn, and then she inquired for Chancery Lane. There was no one else in the doorway. You are your own Heaven and your own Hell, Lucy. However, I daresay that we shall come across one another before long. ‘Is he meeting you here then, my dear?’ ‘He had better,’ said Lucilla. " "She? My God, the pity of it! She knows nothing of life.
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