“Lucy, are you feeling all right?” He asked concernedly. With his black and gray hair, his gray-green eyes were a striking contrast and he looked even younger, as if he had been frozen at age thirty-three. “What’s that for?” He said. It appeared from what he said that he had been captured when asleep,—that his liquor had been drugged,—otherwise, he would never have allowed himself to be taken alive. “Dear me!” he said.
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