She was slender, and sometimes she seemed tall, and walked and carried herself lightly and joyfully as one who commonly and habitually feels well, and sometimes she stooped a little and was preoccupied. Lucy crouched by the side of the grave, her head in her hands, rocking back and forth. “Maybe someday I can look them up again, just to see how they are doing. “How dare you!” she panted, with her world screaming and grimacing insult at her.
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