She closed the book that she had been pretending to read and gathered her black umbrella and her backpack, a childish accoutrement she despised. Until now none of her prayers had ever been answered. Finally Lucy replied. Here a little delay occurred. ” He rowed a stroke and watched the swirl of water from his oar broaden and die away. “Thank you,” he said, “for letting me back. ‘He don’t mean you no harm.
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