‘But this Englishwoman,’ asked the man Valade, his puzzlement plain to see, ‘who was she?’ The question irritated Charvill. Lucy crouched by the side of the grave, her head in her hands, rocking back and forth. “Muck-headed moral ass! I ought to have done anything. The light touch of Ah Cum's hand upon her arm broke the thread of retrospective thought; and her gray eyes began to register again the things she saw. She snapped out of her blissful state and looked at him squarely in the eyes.
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