8. Wrenching his hands from her shoulders, she thrust them away and leapt up from the chair. Lucy howled as tooth met bone, her arm clamped in the trap of Rhea’s huge canines. “To the young man himself,” he answered, “no! I simply object to his calling here two or three times a week during my absence. "Well, you never can tell," he continued, lamely. That did not sound like the name the young man had offered in the tower of the water-clock. The Well Hole.
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