Lucy inhaled deeply. McClintock's was a plantation of ten thousand palms, yielding him annually about half a million nuts. Her eyes where glassy and shining. The faithful fellow will never leave me. The image in the glass was not clear, for the light was not bright enough to see properly, but the shadows of her riding habit and the hat with its waving plumes framed a countenance that gazed serenely back at her out of long-lashed blue eyes. Nor my grandfathers both. Home!— which I never hoped to see again.
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