‘Parbleu, you waste time. How would it serve Nicholas to keep the truth from his daughter? A tiny thread of disquiet troubled him. ‘Now what?’ The girl’s voice was shaking, and there were, he saw now, angry tears in her eyes. At least the sun would not be as bright, which was a welcome reprieve from the mercilessly bright early summer days which had invigorated every man, woman, and child in the suburbs but were wearing Lucy down into acute fatigue, along with her hunger.
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