A shiver slid down inside her. 277 “I was beginning to think that I would never see you again, Lucy. Kneebone—she was too well acquainted; having, more than once, been obliged to repel his advances; and, though his impertinence would have given her little concern at another season, it now added considerably to her distraction. “Is this true, Annabel? Is he dead?” She nodded.
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