\" Lucy winced. " There was a momentary and terrible silence, broken only by a few feeble groans. And pouring the contents of a small powderflask into a bumper of brandy, he tendered him the mixture. You're a queer lad. They would arrive sometime in June. He never cries nor frets, as children generally do, but lies at my bosom, or on my knee, as quiet and as gentle as you see him now. It is no crime, none at all.
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