Lucy tried not to notice the starched smell, overpowering and powdery. He kept at it even on those nights when the monsoon began to break with heavy storms and he had to weight down with stones everything on his table. ‘Did she call you that?’ asked Lucilla, amused. She fell into another slumber, one which was more like a blackout. Only in her eyes there seemed to be some apprehension of the fact that the young man’s clothes and manners were alike undesirable things.
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