The thought did not occur to her, for all thought had flown out of her head. Though encumbered by his irons, his step was firm, and his demeanour dignified. Lucy clasped her hands over her ears as it screamed. He was only a younger son, and you know what trouble we had. We were talking about the suffrage—and I rather scoffed. She was afraid people would follow her, she was afraid of the dark, open doorways she passed, and afraid of the blazes of light; she was afraid to be alone, and she knew not what it was she feared.
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