‘I am not a person, Marthe. S. Lucy thought of herself as belonging to Sebastian whether she liked it or not. While he was straining every sinew, his foot slipped, and he fell, head foremost, into a deep trench, which he had not observed in the dark. Sir Rowland waved his hand, and the attendant withdrew. It was a bright and beautiful day: so bright, so beautiful, that even her sad heart was cheered by it. It’s Providence.
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