1. Her neck was smeared with red and remorse flooded him. Her hair had begun to grow back, it now swept to her shoulders. Jack, who had been lingering near the group, now walked on. "Gracious Heaven!—is she the inmate of a mad-house?" "She is, Sir," answered the woollen-draper, sadly, "driven there by her son's misconduct. Lucy crouched by the side of the grave, her head in her hands, rocking back and forth.
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