The area in front of the jail was completely filled. It was Blueskin. But one must disguise oneself. You care for me a little, I know. It was only when Study Hall was over that Lucy turned her head. She closed the book that she had been pretending to read and gathered her black umbrella and her backpack, a childish accoutrement she despised. The picture in her mind altered and she saw again the way Gerald had looked with consternation upon the bruises he had inflicted on her wrist. She returned home through a world that was as roseate as it had been gray overnight. They stopped talking, except to each other.
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