I saw her face and it was the face that had been hidden from me in dreams, a face very much like yours, Lucia. She walked down the station approach, past the neat, obtrusive offices of the coal merchant and the house agent, and so to the wicket-gate by the butcher’s shop that led to the field path to her home. Wood was heard without, angrily demanding admittance. So absorbed was she by her passionate supplications that she was insensible to anything passing around her, until she felt a touch upon her shoulder, and heard a well-known voice breathe in her ear—"Mother!" She started at the sound as if an apparition had called her, screamed, and fell into her son's outstretched arms. Maggot held up a lantern, which she found in the shop. It is nothing at all for you to worry about. But what can we do? Here am I, fixed to respectability and this laboratory; you’re living at home. I believe you’ve crushed a gland or something. "There!" she cried, laughing, "that'll teach you to lay hands upon me again.
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