“Just like old times,” she thought sardonically. Hilary Roding was all soldier now, his earlier grievances laid aside. “I want,” he said, with a white hand outstretched, “to take you out to tea. ” “Does she have to sell her soul to the Devil?” Lucy asked, feeling stupid. She had maintained a B in each subject except History, which she occasionally felt compelled to strive for A’s in, considering she had lived through most of it. “Why shouldn’t one face the facts of one’s self?” She stood up.
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