She wondered abjectly whether he intended to rape her before she was dead. It ceased to be the symbol of liberty and a remote and quite abstracted person, and became suddenly and very disagreeably the token of a large and portentous body visible and tangible. Though Lucy refused to personally implicate her, Mr. She would come back and write letters, carefully planned and written letters, or read some book she had fetched from Mudie’s—she had invested a half-guinea with Mudie’s—or sit over her fire and think. But when he looked again, there she was! "I don't understand," he said, finally. She stole her glances sideways like the rest of the women.
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