She formed a wild resolution, and, lest she should waver from it, she set about at once to realize it. The newcomer stopped short upon the threshold. There were moments when she thought of turning upon this man and talking to him. Miss Garvice repeated again, and almost in the same words she used at every discussion, her contribution to the great question. The house was full of aunts, uncles, and cousins meandering about, stuffed until their seams and zippers were bursting. Arrived there, their first object was to seek out Davies, by whom they were conducted to the lady's retreat,—a lone habitation, situated on the outskirts of Saint George's Fields in Southwark. By this action, Lucy already knew what the answer was. When she came to, she was lying with her head in Martha’s lap, and a livid bruise was forming at the point of a raging headache. Only a book detective could dope this out.
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