Lucy sighed. It occurred to her that it was absurd and wrong to be so continuously thinking of one engrossing topic, and she made a strenuous effort to force her mind to other questions. She must kill this man, or kill herself. There was no such a thing as perfection in a mixed world. It was Ennison, who loomed up through the shadows. And it had not shocked her! It was this appalling absence of indignation that had put terror into her heart. "Nobody shall," cried Mr.
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