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It is easy enough to sing these little chansons in an original way—it requires a very different sort of ability to succeed on the stage. Lucy felt her heart splinter in her breast. But also this must not go on. Raising him in his arms, Jonathan passed the rope round his body, and in this way the poor boy was drawn up without difficulty. “Why won’t you sleep in my bed tonight, Lucia, where 80 it’s warm?” He asked her one night, teasing but mournful, as she stood in her bedroom doorway in a long white gown. She could feel her face turning beet red.
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