She heard his voice screaming her name into the twilight as she fled, his cries trailing like banners, weaving through the breeze that had begun to gently stir the dew on the ground. “Anna, you are the dearest, bravest sister in the world,” she cried. "Shall I never see that sweet face again,—never feel the pressure of those kind hands more—nor listen to that gentle voice! Ah! yes, we shall meet again in Heaven, where I shall speedily join you. I—I hurt myself. Sheppard's house, "forward!" "Hurrah!" shouted the mob, and the whole phalanx was put in motion in that direction. ‘What has that to say to anything?’ ‘Nothing at all,’ smiled Lucy nervously.
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