Walking into the bedroom, she quickly shed the miniskirt and sweater, folding them without ceremony. Lucia dismissed the rumors, as it was not likely an archbishop would renege on his duties to become her personal doctor. Accordingly, when she arrived at the Shovels, with which, as an old haunt in her bygone days of wretchedness she was well acquainted, instead of entering the principal apartment, which she saw at a glance was crowded with company of both sexes, she turned into a small room on the left of the bar, and, as an excuse for so doing, called for something to drink. “I wouldn’t make this objection,” Mr.
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