When the disillusion comes, when the fairy story ends, if she is blessed with children, she doesn't mind. Soon they came to treat Lucy almost as mother, pulling hard at her brown curls and laughing delightedly as they sprang back into their spiral shape. She was going through with that, anyhow. She stole the opportunity to peer at his departing figure from the closed curtains of the front room window, his shoulders slumped forward, his posture and his ego slightly deflated. Pause. ’ A tiny giggle escaped her, and she lowered the pistol a trifle.
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