“Poor Lucy!” Cathy exclaimed as she rushed in the door, umbrella sheathed. She recalled that she had heard nothing that first time when Gerald and the captain had burst in upon her. Your life is like a funeral March. “Who decorated the school like this?” She asked, peering up at the multicolored banners that hung everywhere. I’d do anything, Vee. I can’t do it even decently myself, and I dare not run the risk of ruining all my clothes.
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