253 < 32 > LUCY GOES TO DINNER Mike and Lucy trudged over to the Vorsack’s house. She had lost her sense of direction, and was among unfamiliar streets. It was noon when the caravan reached the tower of the water-clock. His breakfast despatched, which he ate with a wolfish appetite, he walked over to Newgate, chuckling as he went at the consternation which his appearance would create amongst the turnkeys. The winters were terrible in cold climates, and she often had been driven to dig herself large underground pits where she waited it out like a mole in the cold months. Before I sit down, I have a toast to propose, which I am sure will be received, as it deserves to be, with enthusiasm. Folks don’t like ’em. “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. “Cheer up, Annabel.
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