Lucy’s guts ached with jealousy and bitterness, building in a knot that twisted in her stomach, rag-like. But was it Faith? That is what she was this day going to find out. Both advanced towards it, when, by the light of the lantern, Wood beheld, in the countenance of the stranger, the well-remembered and stern features of Rowland. His voice propelled her to cry even harder, so hard that she began to laugh behind her tears. ‘She wouldn’t tell me. ‘Must be another of her lies. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. If you choose, you can see him put on board the Zeeslang yourself, Sir Rowland.
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