Lucy thought of a song that she had not been able to get out of her head since the Fifties. The shouts drew nearer, and lights were seen flashing ruddily against the sides and gables of the neighbouring houses. Once a thriving town before the Pestilence, most of the buildings and the piers had been destroyed or burned. But this calm was more awful than the previous roaring of the blast. She knew that to expect more now was like anticipating a gold-mine in the garden. "Another moment, and it'll be too late.
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