Lucy’s guts ached with jealousy and bitterness, building in a knot that twisted in her stomach, rag-like. "Do not despair, my sweet soul," said Wood, in a soothing tone. ‘I am far from imagining anything of the kind. . " "I will be there," answered Trenchard, gloomily. A snarl contorted his features, and he marched up to it, laying his pistol down on the marquetry table so that his hands were free to grab the picture off the wall.
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