After great exertions on both parts, the spike yielded to their combined strength, and snapped suddenly off. Her mind invoked her husband, who she imagined lying dead in a ditch somewhere, tortured and killed by brigands or perhaps eaten by creatures like herself, a fate he actually deserved. "You shall not go, adorable girl," cried Kneebone, catching her in his arms, "till you have answered me. Who's the lucky boy, Lucy?\" Lucy looked at her slippered feet.
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