On the other hand, there was a subconscious impression that she would be able to read instantly anything unclean in a man's eye. Cast off this weakness. It pained Lucy to see Mike eating so sparely. The recollection of the forlorn and loveless years—stirred into consciousness by the unexpected confrontation—bent her as the high wind bends the water-reed. The ink, contained in a grimy bottle unearthed in the outhouse, was old, and made blotches as soon as it touched the paper.
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