As concertmaster, it was Lucy’s duty to seat the orchestra as well as tune them. His lips parted in a rare smile. No, none at all. 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. "Where is he, then?" demanded the other, hastily.
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