Lucy sat in back of Jane Lenihan, who never spoke to her. A sob was strangled in her throat. Alarmed by the noise of the scuffle, Quilt and Sharples rushed to the assistance of their comrade. It was like the grin of a fiend, and made my flesh creep on my bones. She often found herself absorbed by watching the tall grass undulate from the cave’s central doorway as solitary hunters prowled for buffalo and stag on the plain. ’ She was silent for a space, and it was evident that this part of the story was still too painful to be recalled with ease.
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