’ ‘Only a few minutes, miss. Dear me! if there isn't his knock. Her mind invoked her husband, who she imagined lying dead in a ditch somewhere, tortured and killed by brigands or perhaps eaten by creatures like herself, a fate he actually deserved. \"Today's Friday, isn't it?\" Lucy remembered. “And as for praying for faith—this sort of monologue is about as near as any one of my sort ever gets to prayer. "Here's the door. She struggled not to be afraid.
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