‘Are you going to come quietly, mademoiselle?’ he demanded with grim determination. You are your own Heaven and your own Hell, Lucy. The wall of the sky, the wall of the horizon, the wall behind which each human being hid—the wall behind which she herself was hiding! If only her mother had lived, her darling mother! Presently the unhappy puzzlement left her face; and an inward glow began to lighten it. Taking the wind was her business in life.
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