The period of repression was over. In the recess beside the fireplace were some open bookshelves. She felt herself falling, her bile rising in her 61 throat, the cold wind spinning around her like vertigo. Jeremiah Jackson's double. “Just forget it, Lucy! Keep your secrets to yourself!” He stomped out, slamming the heavily paneled oak door. "Go to lunch," he ordered Ruth. ‘You do not believe me?’ ‘I do not. After a little further discourse the old man took his departure.
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