Lucy looked about confusedly. Wood, now more buxom and more gorgeously arrayed than ever,—as well as a young and beautiful female, in whom he was at no loss to recognise the carpenter's daughter. ’ There was a silence. Here you are, young, sound, with a heart that will recover in no time, provided you keep liquor out of it. But only inside, you understand, that one cannot see it. Then the work is optional; they go on their own.
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