Mother had forced Lucy to memorize the ingredients of the stews, fairly beating them into her, spanking her backside when she rebelled. Well, you shall know. Something, then, to appease the wrath of God; something to blunt this persistent agony. I said, that day at Surbiton, ‘There’s many good things in life, but there’s only one best, and that’s the wild-haired girl who’s pulling away at that oar. The chair was torture. It is like some accident.
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