Lucy savored the normalcy of the scene. "And now," she added, with somewhat more composure, "leave me, dear friends, I entreat, for a few minutes to collect my scattered thoughts—to prepare myself for what I have to go through—to pray for my son. " "Hold your tongue, sirrah," rejoined Shotbolt, not over-pleased by the remark, "and mind what I tell you. You’re the only person I’ve really given good, straight, unselfish thought to. She was very pretty. Through this, his last trial, Jack's spirits never deserted him.
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