” They were in the elder Widgett girl’s bedroom; Hetty was laid up, she said, with a sprained ankle, and a miscellaneous party was gossiping away her tedium. Cathy reached out and touched Lucy’s chin with her two fingers, gently commanding her attention. He hugged her when he saw her in the hallway. Then the bridge had arched gateways, bristling with spikes, and garnished (as all ancient gateways ought to be) with the heads of traitors.
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