“I got Sydney’s telegram at ten o’clock, and caught the ten-thirty from the Gare du Nord. Lucy grabbed its handle, her broken bones mending inside her causing her to wince in pain. ” He put his hands in his pockets, his mouth puckered to a whistle, and he went to the door of the outer preparation-room and stood there, looking, save for the faintest intensification of his natural ruddiness, the embodiment of blond serenity.
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