“Good luck! Good luck!” She waved from the window until the bend hid him. The both of them puttering about the tidy two-story house, Lucy would serve them both steaming cups of tea in the front parlor. Crack went the whip, and away floundered the heavy vehicle through the deep ruts of the ill-kept road, or rather lane, (for it was little better,) which, then, led across Southampton Fields.
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