Standing over the pierced Rhea, Lucy bayed, a long cry that was half-scream and half-howl. She was conscious of a ceaseless undercurrent of sound—the guttural Chinese tongue. “How has the world taken it?” he asked. Then came the shock of the knowledge that soon he would be going upon his way, that there would be no one to depend upon her; and all the old loneliness came smothering down upon her again.
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