She came to spend hours with the bastard children that the women brought, dressing and feeding the tiny ones, inventing games for the older ones. Asking her way once or twice, she passed along Fleet Street into the Strand, and crossed Trafalgar Square, into Piccadilly. He smiled grandly; she could feel the radiance of his approval from across the wedding table. ” Lucy would always press her face into her mother’s skirts when she heard the ending, no matter how many times she heard it.
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