" "Come along, master," said the waterman. " "You cannot help yourself, Sir Rowland," replied Jonathan, contemptuously. Lucy could feel blood welling underneath a bump half swelling and already half-healing on her scalp. The fireplace was at the other end, with the sheeted shapes of two sofas either side. A lean young man in spectacles pursued her for some time, crying “Courage! Courage!” Somebody threw a dab of mud at her, and some of it got down her neck.
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