You dear, dear girl. He felt he had raised a storm which it would be very difficult, if not impossible, to allay. I’ve been wondering where she got her dogged will, and that hot-headed adventurous spirit, for it wasn’t from either Mary or Nicholas, that’s sure. But no more of that. There were seven tales in all—short stories—a method of expression quite strange to her, after the immense canvases of Dickens and Hugo. ‘Oh, you are making a game with me. Lucy did not move, but instead stared straight forward, her eyes focused on the desk where the presiding teacher on duty was supposed to be. ‘I’ve finished me report, sir,’ Trodger said aggrievedly.
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