There was a shrill cry, instantly succeeded by a deep splash. Lucy stood relieved that she had not messed up the solo. "I was," answered Sheppard. The bridesmaids and pages got rather jumbled in the aisle, and she had an effect of Alice’s white back and sloping shoulders and veiled head receding toward the altar. The solos were revealing, sensual and moody. At this time of day the priest would be at his apartments in Brewer Street, a short walk away from Golden Square which the building overlooked.
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