If ever she felt fatigue in these long tramps which had already taken her half over London, she never admitted it. Stanley’s acquaintance in the train and shown him one or two trifling civilities. To his consternation, she was holding an unwieldy, ugly-looking pistol, all wood and tarnished steel, with both hands about the butt. “Poor Lucy!” Cathy exclaimed as she rushed in the door, umbrella sheathed. Dear God, what a beautiful moment!" The fire went out of Spurlock's eyes and the shadow of hopeless weariness fell upon him.
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