“When did you get home last night, Lucy?” Cathy interrogated through a yawn. Mom, this is Lucy Albert from school. Sir John waved her back. His own peculiar genius—a miracle key to the hidden things in men's souls—had given him this immediate and astonishing illumination. "No!" she cried. After all, it came to him suddenly as a harsh discovery that she might be in a sense regarded as grownup. It would have saved me much circumlocution, and you some suspense.
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