. ’ I wanted, as I have never wanted before, to take you up, to make you mine, to carry you off and set you apart from all the strain and turmoil of life. ‘Courage,’ urged her spouse. He was completely, devastatingly handsome. Lucy crouched by the side of the grave, her head in her hands, rocking back and forth. You’re a lady. I do not think that you will dare to marry anybody else. He is all kindness, and will overlook them for your poor father's sake —for mine.
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