Lucy jammed her foot down onto Mark McCloskey’s forehead. The events that had initially followed in the wake of her triumph over Emile Gosse had quite confused and dazed her. Losing his presence of mind, Jack quitted his hold, and dropped upon the frame. “What have you done?” 212 “It is your own fault, Lucia. Jane was a smoldering auburn-haired Irish beauty who seldom spoke to anyone. Under his arm he carried a thick, knotted crab-stick.
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