’ He sat on the low wall of the haha and invited her to do the same. The place was gloomy, with its darkly panelled walls, but it was sparsely furnished. How dreary it all looks. That’s really our choice now, defy—or futility. Me—I’m nothing but a country wench, and one who went to the bad. Every now and then something familiar in her tone, the poise of her head, the play of her eyes startled him. Lucy replied, \"My hair has a mind of its own.
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