A sound sleeper, she was not roused by the creaky openings and closings of drawers as Lucy packed a single duffle bag with underwear and soap that was pilfered from a multipack of Zest in the Beck’s downstairs bathroom. Having made a tolerably good meal upon the loaf, overcome by fatigue, Jack turned into a barn in Stoke Newington, and slept till late in the day, when he awakened much refreshed. He knew she was out there, he could feel it. Manning, with entirely suitable emotion. He knocked at the door. “John! Welcome! Happy Thanksgiving!” Cathy cried, ushering him deeper into the house.
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