“And as for praying for faith—this sort of monologue is about as near as any one of my sort ever gets to prayer. Do you understand?’ ‘Aye, sir. This was good. I think that I have become a drug drinker. Lucy sighed. She had a vision of policemen, reproving magistrates, a crowded court, public disgrace. He was a shy boy outwardly but she knew him better in his thoughts, in which perhaps she had already taken upon the role of lover.
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