I can’t even carry a tune with a bucket. At this point Lucy, in an effort perhaps—foolhardy, in Gerald’s opinion—to pour oil on troubled waters, rose swiftly to her feet and came towards the old man, her hand held out. He was painfully in earnest, too. "I never told anybody," she went on. The glass in the windows was broken—the roof unthatched—the walls dilapidated. ” She assented gently.
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