Mirrors. ’ He glanced at the portrait behind her. By the side of her plate was a small key. Lucy crouched by the side of the grave, her head in her hands, rocking back and forth. Occasionally the mere fact of lying in bed became unendurable, and she rolled out and marched about her room and whispered abuse of herself—usually until she hit against some article of furniture. Jonathan, however, was well acquainted with the road.
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