Lucy was filled with happiness, it was her third Christmas at the Becks. Fatigued by his previous exertions, and incumbered by his fetters, he was by no means—though ordinarily remarkably swift of foot—a match for his foes, who were fast gaining upon him. She drifted northward from the Strand, and came on some queer and dingy quarters. It contains a thousand pounds; and, if all other schemes fail, I'll engage to free him on the way to Tyburn. I'm used to insult as I am to misfortune, and am grown callous to both; but I'm not used to compassion, and know not how to take it. ‘What has that to say to anything?’ ‘Nothing at all,’ smiled Lucy nervously. ’ Madame ventured a glance up at his face, and fluttered her lashes.
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