His next occupation was to take out his pistols, examine the priming, and rub the flints. ” “Not for you?” “No. The locket contained the face of her mother—all the family album she had. “But why, Lucy? Who is it 145 that you are trying to hide from? John?” Lucy closed her eyes in earnest. " He drew down the lamp and blew it out, and followed her into the night, more lovely than he had ever imagined night to be. ” He never helped her by a sound. .
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