“Lucy!” He whispered into her ear beneath a dusty curtain cloud. Throwing down the pencil, she snatched up a piece of India-rubber, and exclaiming,—"It isn't at all like him! it isn't half handsome enough!" was about to efface the sketch, when Thames darted into the room. The shouts, yells, and groans which they uttered, and which were echoed by the concourse in the rear, were perfectly frightful.
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