" And he led the way to an inner room, in the middle of which stood a table, covered with a large white cloth. Mirrors. There’s something about you, a little flavor of Will, I suppose, that makes one feel—good luck about you and success. “Shit!” John quickly countered, “What are you going to do? She’s a motor-mouth, Lucy, of the worst kind. ’ She simpered, and withdrew one hand so that she might smack his fingers playfully. “Just remember, I have to make this up to you.
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