She cried out with the pain of it. There stepped forth a tall brown man. Every gibbet at Tyburn and Hounslow appeared to have been plundered of its charnel spoil to enrich the adjoining cabinet, so well was it stored with skulls and bones, all purporting to be the relics of highwaymen famous in their day. Not once during the ceremony did the two look at each other, but riveted their gaze upon the lips of the man who was forging the bands: gazed intensively, as if they feared the world might vanish before the last word of the ceremony was spoken. She donned her fuzzy slippers and traipsed downstairs, the welcoming smell of coffee beckoning her, the sound of Looney Toons music barely audible from the television set. Michelle moaned and Lucy, unable to help herself, stroked her hair. She laughed as the deluge seemed to grow worse with every step. "There!" she cried, laughing, "that'll teach you to lay hands upon me again.
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