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Lucy crouched by the side of the grave, her head in her hands, rocking back and forth. To vault over the pews was the work of a moment; and having gained the entry leading to the Red Room he passed through the first door; his progress being only impeded by the pile of broken stones, which he himself had raised. So kind, so good to me always. She was saying good-bye to childhood and home, and her making; she was going out into the great, multitudinous world; this time there would be no returning.
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