With his black and gray hair, his gray-green eyes were a striking contrast and he looked even younger, as if he had been frozen at age thirty-three. "The gentleman is a stranger to me, Poll," replied the woollen-draper, with increased embarrassment. “But why, Lucy? Who is it 145 that you are trying to hide from? John?” Lucy closed her eyes in earnest. You’re tired, of course. There is nobody, then?" "Oh, there is an aunt.
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