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Lucy looked at the stains on the threadbare carpeting to distract herself, embarrassed to her core. “Silly!” he remarked after a pause. What you want to do is to imagine every woman a Becky Sharp and every man a Rawdon Crawley. ‘She obviously likes Leonardo. "Begone, wretch!" cried the mother, stung beyond endurance by his taunts; "or I will drive you hence with my curses. Sharples received them at the threshold, and holding his lantern towards the prisoners to acquaint himself with their features, nodded to Quilt, between whom and himself some secret understanding seemed to subsist, and then closed and barred the door. Beware of him, my son! Beware of him! You know not what villany he is capable of. They fell into step again. And that happens through our maternity; it’s our very importance that degrades us. I barely prevailed sometimes, but in the end, my wits were faster than their steel. Deny me, if you please. ’ ‘Why should Gérard care?’ sneered Gosse.
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