Lucy arranged her hair as Michelle had taught her instead of combing it out. “Come,” she said. " "I don't know. I hope I may never come near her. 1. If ever I did meet a man I could love, I should love him”—her voice dropped again—“platonically. For this he was prepared; but he was not prepared for the almost insurmountable obstacles which it presented. For the first time, perhaps, in his life, he repented of his brutality. Nobody knows what his real name is, but he's a Hollander. She took up one of her father’s novels and put it down again, fretted up to her own room for some work, sat on her bed and meditated upon the room that she was now really abandoning forever, and returned at length with a stocking to darn. Certainly, there wasn't a thing in the pockets. His name was Peter. There's our young friend upstairs. “Quite an unimportant one,” he assured her.
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