Perhaps that was why Sheila began to observe Lucy, because both of them were poignantly aware of Lucy’s otherness. ’ At that, a flush drenched her cheeks and she snatched her hand away. She looked at him mournfully. "And now," she added, with somewhat more composure, "leave me, dear friends, I entreat, for a few minutes to collect my scattered thoughts—to prepare myself for what I have to go through—to pray for my son.
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