“Come on in, Michelle. He went in and leaned, panting, against one wall. While he was thus employed a farming man came into the barn. Lucy had baked the apple and pumpkin pies, carefully molding the flour crusts and adding extra teaspoonfuls of allspice and cinnamon while no one looked. More than half the city perished. Lucy’s guts ached with jealousy and bitterness, building in a knot that twisted in her stomach, rag-like. Gerald would certainly have demanded back his sword.
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