You will have to tell me. Her eyes glistened in the darkness—for light was only admitted through a small grated window—like flames, and, as she fixed them on him, their glances seemed to penetrate his very soul. He was a stranger. He knew that tragedy was as blind as justice, that it struck the child and the grown-up impartially. Anna opened a cupboard and produced cups and saucers and a tin of coffee. "God in Heaven bless you, unhappy boy!" cried. “What have you done?” 212 “It is your own fault, Lucia. Soon, they fattened up, their cheeks rosy and their hair shining. Then it dawned. Heaven alone knows why. ” “An appetite like yours,” he said resignedly, “is fatal to all sentiment.
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