Lucy thought of a song that she had not been able to get out of her head since the Fifties. "Now—begin. Austin could scarcely credit his senses when he beheld him. “Indeed,” she said, “it was very fortunate that I should have met you this afternoon. Horrors abounded in every passageway as each turn could bring a vision of a poor woman running from her screaming plague-infested son or a bloated corpse of a rich man whose mouth lolled open, showing gaps where someone had pried out a few golden teeth.
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