Lucy had passed the house once on the sidewalk, on a rare day when he was shoveling snow. Moreoever, it had cost her a whipping and several days’ imprisonment in her cell on bread and water. She was dressed as English girls do dress for town, without either coquetry or harshness: her collarless blouse confessed a pretty neck, her eyes were bright and steady, and her dark hair waved loosely and graciously over her ears. A wave of pity went over him—pity for the patient, the girl, and his friend. ” He referred to a sheet of paper by his side.
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