Lucy howled as tooth met bone, her arm clamped in the trap of Rhea’s huge canines. Not once during the ceremony did the two look at each other, but riveted their gaze upon the lips of the man who was forging the bands: gazed intensively, as if they feared the world might vanish before the last word of the ceremony was spoken. Just what in the world was that about? Before he could hazard a guess, Lucy looked back at him. " "Most likely," observed Jonathan, with a slight sneer; "the ghost of some highwayman who has just breathed his last in Newgate, no doubt. She acted as her mother had taught her to. Sheppard's dress—extremely neat and clean, but simply fashioned, and of the plainest and most unpretending material,—offered nothing assailable; and her demeanour was so humble, and her looks so modest, that—if she had been ill-looking—she might, possibly, have escaped the shafts of malice preparing to be levelled against her. She did not open the Bible but laid it on the edge of the bed, knelt and rested her forehead upon the worn leather cover. In her little sitting-room she turned on the electric light and looked around half fearfully. The lady, who was indeed stunning, Gerald suddenly realised, said never a word.
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