Because here was the haven for which she had been blindly groping: the positive abolition of all her father's rights in her—the right to drag her back. "Here, Caliban, go and fasten his padlock. Lucy's ears were singing. I don't know; I really don't know," she found herself repeating. "But be it as it may, he is now beyond the reach of earthly punishment. When in the plenitude of his power, he commenced a terrible trade, till then unknown—namely, a traffic in human blood.
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