Happy Thanksgiving. Lucy felt her eyes misting up, turning traitor. He did not look at her directly, though she fantasized that she could 141 feel his stares from the back of the class on occasion. Wood," cried David, pouring out a glass of the spirit, and offering it to the carpenter, "that'll warm the cockles of your heart. Here, Peter," he added to a curly-headed lad, who was playing on one of the grassy tombs, "ask your father to step this way.
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