Satisfied, however, that she did not notice him, Jonathan glided away as noiselessly as he came, and ascended another short flight of stairs leading to the garret. These galleries were separated in the middle by iron grates. Shari proceeded to paint, brush, dust, slather, and blot Lucy’s face with makeup. ‘What in God’s name do you think you’re playing at?’ ‘Let me alone, man,’ Gerald muttered under his breath. —I'll soon find you out. They were sitting alone, Lucy. David Courtlaw.
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