True to her nature, Cathy had already offered John snacks and drinks of water twice by the time Lucy bounded down the stairs at 3:58. Swiftly following the sound of knocking, she crossed right and passed through a door near the windows—and found herself in the bookroom. Something with iron resolve the father had kept hidden all these years in the lonely citadel of his heart. He rambled in an unfortunate monotone, the result of his innate fear of public speaking. He was a small, dark, reserved man, with a large inflexiblelooking convex forehead, and his wife was very pink and high-spirited, with one of those chins that pass insensibly into a full, strong neck. . He became really companionable, discussed the new story he had in mind, and asked some questions about colour.
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