“I thank you for your advice,” she said. Lucy had baked the apple and pumpkin pies, carefully molding the flour crusts and adding extra teaspoonfuls of allspice and cinnamon while no one looked. Jack, whose back was towards it, did not see it; but he heard, from the pitying exclamations of the crowd, that it was in view. I did not reckon upon—him. The shops were lighting up into gigantic lanterns of color, the street lamps were glowing into existence, and she had lost her way.
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