The thought of you, wandering from pillar to post, believing yourself hunted—it tore my old heart to pieces! For I knew you. His demeanour then was sober enough to lend colour to that belief. Poor little one. Lucy thought of herself as belonging to Sebastian whether she liked it or not. He talked at the blackboard in a pleasant, very slightly lisping voice with a curious spontaneity, and was sometimes very clumsy in his exposition, and sometimes very vivid. I could not keep away any longer. Forthwith he presented his card.
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