She felt scrawny, lanky, badly dressed in a baggy black T-shirt, sweaty, not at all beautiful; not even pretty. Lucia confined herself to her quarters, wondering when they would flee to the country as so many other houses had done. There was a little pain, but it wasn’t anything. The tail-ender of this little caravan, he had been rather out of it. Attempts were made upon the door of the Lodge; but it was too strong to be forced. ” She turned away. ” Lucy said, thinking of the Becks who worked around the clock just to keep a tiny house in the same neighborhood.
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