"When is he to suffer?" she demanded, fixing her large black eyes, which burnt with an insane gleam, upon him. 126 Lucy drank them as the first rays of watery sunlight seeped through the mullioned windows, then put their husks in the claw-footed bathtub. The struggle had dislodged the white wimple, which was evidently too large for her, and her black hair broke free, whirling like a whiplash about her head as her hands curled into fists, coming up to beat at his chest, her little teeth bared for attack. The freezing water lapped around her ankles as she ran along its edge, marveling at the thousands of tiny white spiral shells the tide had brought in. That's one of the troubles with young folks: they take themselves so seriously. But the stone was slippery; and the tide, which here began to feel the influence of the fall, was running with frightful velocity. “When did you start?” She said between puffs. "How long will he be laid up?" "Three or four weeks, if he doesn't peg out during the night. She’s right upstairs.
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