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There is a note in your voice when you speak of him. . . . " |
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Abby sighed, lifting her chin bravely. "I love him." |
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"Yet you came back to save Arlen," Lucy whispered. "Thank you, Abby. You gave up so much for me." |
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Abby's laugh was brittle. "You were in my thoughts, of course, but I returned for many reasonsand the most important was selfish. I couldn't live anywhere knowing Mike might never exist if I failed to act." |
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"I am still grateful. But now why do you not simply go back?" |
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There was no longer anything simple about it. Abby rose, suddenly aware of the sounds all around: the water's gurgle, the tune of a songbird in the tree above. Above, leaves rustled in the fragrant breeze, and a small bird with a long blue tail took flight. |
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"I tried," she finally said in a soft, choking voice. "Just now. And I failed. I believe I may be destined to remain here." |
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"Selfishly I should be glad," said Lucy with a wry lift of her lips. "But for you I am not. Why do you think that?" |
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"I could not read all of your last journal," Abby explained, "for it had been damaged over the years. But at its end, you say that I am in the garden of your new house with Papa." |
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Lucy's brow wrinkled pensively. "The way my poor Arlen is working, our house will not be finished for yearslet alone growing its garden. |
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