Lucy complied, slipping the tight jeans over her white underwear. CHAPTER XXVII His idea, cleverly planned, was to shatter her resistance, to confound her suddenly by striking her mind with words which would rob her coherent thought. No; the future was not so dark; there was a bit of dawn visible. Winds returned, the gardens withered, and roses would not bloom. The little grating in the door, the sense of constant inspection, worried her. “—but this cannot be.
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