This done, she waited at the side of the bed; but he gave no sign that he was conscious of her nearness. "Perhaps that would have been best. ” Her first upward glance was one of terrified apprehension. “Lucy!” He whispered into her ear beneath a dusty curtain cloud. ‘At me,’ she uttered, holding her own pistol high and aiming it steadily. The recollection of the forlorn and loveless years—stirred into consciousness by the unexpected confrontation—bent her as the high wind bends the water-reed.
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