It was as if she had grown right past her father into something older and of infinitely wider outlook, as if he had always been unsuspectedly a flattened figure, and now she had discovered him from the other side. "Put down your burthen, monster!" shouted Wood, pointing an immense blunderbuss at him. Then, if you weren’t looking, he’d get five feet closer. And neither had any of that theatricality which demands gestures and facial expression. “How are you, Lucy?” Martin ran to catch her in the crowded hall. I can decide for myself.
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