I love him!" She was weak and dizzy: from horror as much as from physical exertion. Michelle looked at Lucy's feet, still in the ugly brown loafers she had worn since last year. The hand that had been clenched lay open, relaxed; and upon the palm he saw her mother's locket. Flesh and blood, vivid, alluring; she was no longer the symbol, therefore she had become, as in the twinkling of an eye, an utter stranger. "Are you not content with the crimes you have committed, —but you must carry your villany to this point.
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