"I thought you'd have got rid of your ill-humour by this time. She too at once developed an anxious interest in the street outside. I shan't let you off a farthing. \" Lucy said. At this time of universal havoc and despair,—when all London quaked at the voice of the storm,—the carpenter, who was exposed to its utmost fury, fared better than might have been anticipated. But, on the bursting of that bubble, his hopes vanished with it. She seemed to grow more beautiful to him and not the opposite. “Troubles, my friend,” she exclaimed lightly. “Of course!” he said. I hate what I have to do to survive.
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