’ She sagged a little suddenly, as if the painful memories in her mind had exhausted her body. Her eyes were soft and grave, and there was the faintest of smiles upon her resolute lips. She was reasonably certain why. Lucy's ears were singing. . The dream flowers and is harvested, and we are left by the wayside, having served our singular purpose in the scheme of progress: as the orange is tossed aside when sucked of its ruddy juice. .
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