The lantern was on the ground inside, ready. . She started forward. “What has he to do with it?” “He was your sister’s master—her friend. ‘But only think, Hilary,’ Lucy protested, evidently too involved in her theory to waste time in scolding. She heard his voice screaming her name into the twilight as she fled, his cries trailing like banners, weaving through the breeze that had begun to gently stir the dew on the ground. She found she was trembling at his nearness and full of a thrilling dread that he might touch her.
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