” “How old-fashioned of you, Lucy. He built her the most beautiful castle 242 in the world in the desert, carving fountains where real water ran and gardens in a place where no plant had ever bloomed. ‘Nothing would do for her but to come here,’ grumbled Hilary, wiping his heated brow with a pocket handkerchief dragged from his immaculate white uniform breeches. “I killed him. Lucy crouched by the side of the grave, her head in her hands, rocking back and forth.
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