A tinge of admiration rose in his breast. ‘We needn’t murder Lucia. "Come with me, my love, come—come," cried his mother, seizing his hand, and endeavouring to force him away. Shy, grateful in her loneliness for this unexpected attention, she had listened. She did her best to do this. ‘It is not possible. The young man opposite was straining his ears to listen to their conversation.
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