She watched them sleep for what seemed hours from the high window until her body grew colder than the stone sill she perched upon. At least the sun would not be as bright, which was a welcome reprieve from the mercilessly bright early summer days which had invigorated every man, woman, and child in the suburbs but were wearing Lucy down into acute fatigue, along with her hunger. ‘You said she was beautiful. I speak frankly, because you also know that no possible extremity would induce me to accept help from any living person. John’s father added cheerfully, “So, do you play any violin?” She balked at the stereotype, but admitted, “Yes, I play violin. She had also discovered the names of Grimm and Andersen; but at that time she had not been able to visualize "the pale slender things with gossamer wings"—fairies.
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