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He heard the panting of the donkey-engine, then the slithering of the anchor chains. Soon they came to treat Lucy almost as mother, pulling hard at her brown curls and laughing delightedly as they sprang back into their spiral shape. Dorling said. I shouldn't talk like that. Too late now. ” “Then how have you managed?” “Bother!” said Ann Veronica to herself, and tried not to look guilty. “I don’t think she quite sees the harm of those people or the sort of life to which they would draw her,” she said. She spoke slowly.
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