"Is it gold?" "Pure gold," replied Kneebone. Her thin fingers were armed with nails as long as the talons of a bird. “No,” she said at last; “I’m a human being—not a timid female. I knew it. “I won’t have you quarrelling and crying in the Avenue,” he said. Lucy’s bright tones pursued her. He is the kind of man who would much prefer a little dust in his eyes. “Don’t think that I have been playing the spy upon you,” he continued. “No, I am alone,” she answered.
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