B. Tell Lucy about the time you were nine years old and blew up the house, John. He would discuss something she had been reading, and he would give her some unexpected angle, setting a fictional character before her with astonishing clearness. My name is Ferringhall—Sir John Ferringhall. Halloa, Ben!" cried he, shaking a broad-backed fellow, equipped in a short-skirted doublet, and having a badge upon his arm,—"scullers wanted. You desert your home; I throw up useful teaching, risk every hope in your career.
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