” Lucy said softly. One more passer-by; and always would she remember his patience and tenderness and disinterestedness. " "You'd better send him," jeered the turnkey. Figg?" asked Gay. She imagined descending the stairs, hearing Mike’s uproarious laughter as she peeked around a vacant corner with a lump in her throat. " "It shall be, Sir," replied Ireton, bowing.
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