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She can't last long. Help—should she need it—from the natives was out of the question. Feigning an air of casualness, Lucy asked the obvious. " "Suffer me to proceed," replied the stranger. The youth produced a crumpled-up card from his waistcoat pocket. " "You don't have to. ” “I can’t work. Miss Mary and me, and Martha too sometimes. In the retrospect she was amazed to think how things had gone to pieces, for at the outset she had been quite prepared to go home again upon terms. The funeral, it has just been said, took place on that day.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 26-09-2024 14:58:23