She tucked her stick under her arm and re-read Manning’s letter. Lucy could see the resemblance of Martin to both of his parents as plain as day. They walked across a moat of pea gravel that crunched like noisy cereal under their feet. Mr. Wood, in equal trepidation. She would be haunted by the visions of their mad faces in her dreams for the next hundred years. You know nothing of life, nothing of its dangers, nothing of its possibilities.
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