” Lucy replied sadly. That wasn’t even the worst thing. He had a handsome, jolly-looking face; stood six feet two in his stockings; and measured more than a cloth-yard shaft across the shoulders—athletic proportions derived from his father the dragoon. If ever she felt fatigue in these long tramps which had already taken her half over London, she never admitted it. The queer phase of the dream was this, she was at no time a woman; she was symbolical of something, and he followed to learn what this something was. And, yet, I don't know. He taught her how to read and write in Latin and Greek, often rewarding her for her efforts with a flower or a trinket.
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