They were on their way back home, or so she had thought. “Nothing. ” Lucy said. At length, about an hour before dawn on the second day—Sunday—having spent the early part of the night in watching at the gates of the robbers' sanctuary, and being almost exhausted from want of rest, she set out homewards. “I wonder,” she said, “why one writes him sentences like that? It’ll have to go,” she decided, “I’ve written too many already. "Is Thames returned from London?" "Not yet," replied the other; "but I expect him every minute.
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