“Please forgive me, Lucy. It towered up high above the level of the pass, thousands of feet, still, shining, and white, and below, thousands of feet below, was a floor of little woolly clouds. ’ ‘Why must you?’ asked Gerald calmly. You must remember, you've just begun to read; you haven't any comparisons. ‘Nevertheless, he will neither help me, nor will I seek his help. He held her hand in his, cupped together like a pair of shells for the rest of the hour. She came to her one day and pulled on her apron.
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