May I do so to-day?” “It’s your gate,” she said, amiably; “you got it first. The gate was opened; the coffin brought into the churchyard; and Jack, whose eyes were filled with tears, saw Mr. “But why, Lucy? Who is it 145 that you are trying to hide from? John?” Lucy closed her eyes in earnest. She has no proof—yet. She studied the face and tried to visualize the body, clothed in the dress which had created the spinsters' astonishment. ‘I have only borrowed it.
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