" "Don't be angry with me, Sir," cried the widow, sobbing bitterly, "pray don't. ” He rowed a stroke and watched the swirl of water from his oar broaden and die away. At least the sun would not be as bright, which was a welcome reprieve from the mercilessly bright early summer days which had invigorated every man, woman, and child in the suburbs but were wearing Lucy down into acute fatigue, along with her hunger.
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