” Lucy shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. There were cakes and sandwiches—for Ennison a sort of Elysian feast, long to be remembered. The bed was hard beyond any experience of hers, the bed-clothes coarse and insufficient, the cell at once cold and stuffy. Her aunt leaped unhappily to the thought of penitence. CHAPTER IV. She feasted reluctantly, partly out of wonder at the new function of her often elongated canines.
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