“Do you know him?” Lucy replied, “No, I haven’t met him. ” He paused and looked at her, and said, with a sudden drop into a confidential undertone, “Or else I want to pray. He was a thin old man, a wreck in a ruined body, but nothing would induce him to stand in any other way than as stiffly erect as possible like the soldier he had always been, even though he was obliged to lean on his silver-handled cane to do so. He was the junior of both his sisters, co-educated and much broken in to feminine society. “Anna!” she repeated. His face darkened. ‘It could not be helped, whichever way I made my presence known.
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