Then, when the tension was getting unendurable, and she was on the verge of speaking to some casual passer-by and demanding help, her follower vanished. “They are full of the usual foolish stories. Lucy stood relieved that she had not messed up the solo. Lucy felt her heart splinter in her breast. "Open my heart, Father of Mercy!" she murmured, in a humble tone, and with downcast looks, "and make me sensible of the error of my ways. Perhaps it was the recollection of those happy days.
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