I meant to give him a drubbing. "Close the wicket, Austin," vociferated Ireton, in an authoritative tone. . And, with a glance of malignant exultation, he quitted the vault, and locked the door. Her fanciful imagination no longer drew pictures of the aunt in the doorway of a wooden house, her arms extended in welcome. But one thing troubled him, and because of it he might never arrive on the beach. You are your own Heaven and your own Hell, Lucy. He had deliberately saved it for last.
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