"Don't mention it," returned Wood, in the conciliatory tone of one who admits he has been in the wrong; "your explanation is perfectly satisfactory. He did not spend more time with her. “How are you, Lucy?” Martin ran to catch her in the crowded hall. It was also cold, and dark, for there had been no time to light the lantern. Always. A few yards further off something grey, inert, was lying, a huddled-up heap of humanity twisted into a strange unnatural shape.
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