Lucy’s guts ached with jealousy and bitterness, building in a knot that twisted in her stomach, rag-like. “I just came to you and put myself in your hands. She moved her elbow nearer to him and spoke in a still lower tone. ” She said bitterly. " Jonathan gave utterance to a torrent of imprecations. " "Have it, and welcome," rejoined Figg. Too late. His gaze dropped to the black garment that covered her. If Winifred remained silent, her looks would have disarmed a person of less assurance than the woollen-draper.
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