"You have both," replied Wood, fervently. “If you say so, Lucy. And then came the vile experience of being forced and borne along the street to the police-station. “But why, Lucy? Who is it 145 that you are trying to hide from? John?” Lucy closed her eyes in earnest. I’ve made no one happy. “They never seem so at first!” he said. All the world about her seemed to be—how can one put it?—in wrappers, like a house when people leave it in the summer.
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