’ ‘I still think you ought to have waited, miss. Lucy found solace in the lack of sunshine, but the November cold was over the top, even for Illinois. She covered herself with her arms. She could not be more than twenty; and though want and other suffering had done the work of time, had wasted her frame, and robbed her cheek of its bloom and roundness, they had not extinguished the lustre of her eyes, nor thinned her raven hair. A wrathful God was watching him.
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