A sound sleeper, she was not roused by the creaky openings and closings of drawers as Lucy packed a single duffle bag with underwear and soap that was pilfered from a multipack of Zest in the Beck’s downstairs bathroom. She would just have to show up and hope for the best. Manning regarded her thoughtfully for a moment and stroked his mustache. That's the kind, my friend, that always fall soft. The air was thick with feelings. Her shoulders were gripped hard and a familiar voice spoke. She meditated profoundly through several enormous cold hours on all that had happened and all that she had done since the swirl of the suffrage movement had submerged her personal affairs.
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