Apparently she was always doomed to weep when she talked to her father. He stood there, large and dark, enunciating, in his clear voice from beneath his large mustache, clear flat sentences, deliberately kindly. It fell to the ground and smoked ominously. Her father became much less distant towards his only daughter in the days that followed. She felt as if she had struck them unawares. And when Mr. " "Devil take the key!" ejaculated Wood. Jack Kimble. ” Lucy replied, and brushed past him on the stair. " "My conscience acquits me of all share in the offence," replied Jack, humbly. She began rubbing it with her pocket-handkerchief.
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