Had he not said so? Not that she wished him to marry her. For the face under her gaze she could find but one expression—fine. “When did you look up my mother’s records at the Joliet library, Michelle?” Lucy asked, trying not to incriminate herself by sounding confrontational. A bobbing lantern, crossing the bridge—for she had not drawn the curtain—attracted her attention. As he hesitated, unable to make up his mind what to do for the best, a heavy rumbling on the cobbles penetrated his absorption.
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