He continued alternately to be tossed in the air, or rolled in the kennel until he was borne out of sight. “Do you think you’ll ever get married, Lucy?” Lucy shifted uncomfortably as she pulled her makeshift nightgown—an old T-shirt—over her head. He looked at it with uplifted eyebrows, but made no remark. "Yes … but dreadfully tired. "Poor fellow! I'm glad he has escaped.
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