Lucy sighed, finding it odd to switch roles as she had over the past weeks. She was afraid people would follow her, she was afraid of the dark, open doorways she passed, and afraid of the blazes of light; she was afraid to be alone, and she knew not what it was she feared. Her skin prickled. Many other wards,—especially on the Master Debtor's side,—have been necessarily omitted in the foregoing hasty enumeration. Upon the pavement near the court lay the porter, who had been prostrated by a blow from the butt-end of a pistol.
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