It would not be possible otherwise to live in daily contact with this level-eyed, lovely girl without loving her. His frowning gaze came back to her. Or had she, like himself, been held up until the fellow returned to town? He waited, his ready humour anticipating her likely reaction. She found herself alone in the train asking herself what she must do next, and trying not to think of herself as cut off from home or any refuge whatever from the world she had resolved to face. “Like what, Lucy?” She saw the panic threaten to overtake him. He tried this sentence with expletives.
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