Her mother informed her of the betrothal on the first painful day of her menarche, shortly after her eleventh birthday. “Lucy, are you feeling all right?” He asked concernedly. It appeared highly probable to her that he would stop her allowance. A tinge of admiration rose in his breast. ‘Odds were against it. A lean young man in spectacles pursued her for some time, crying “Courage! Courage!” Somebody threw a dab of mud at her, and some of it got down her neck. That is I saw her.
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