This mitigated her remorse enormously. Want to walk home today? Lucy slipped the paper into her English textbook. And thus it was that she came upon a book of Stevenson's verse—her first adventure into poetry. “His stipend forbade it,” she said, and seemed to fall into a train of thought. "Jack!" she cried, raising her head. Single pearls— Lord knows where they come from!—are always turning up, some of them of fine lustre; but I never set eyes on them.
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