Tulliver, going up to Lucy to examine into the amount of damage to clothes for which she felt herself responsible to her sister Deane.
Lucy can't walk in her dirty clothes," she said, looking at that innocent victim, who was wrapped up in a shawl, and sitting with naked feet on the sofa.
Lucy seems to have become as much in love with the spot as I am, and it is hard to get her away from it when it is time to come home for lunch or tea or dinner.
I slewed round a little, so as to see Lucy well without seeming to stare at her, and saw that she was in a half dreamy state, with an odd look on her face that I could not quite make out, so I said nothing, but followed her eyes.
When coming home, it was then bright moonlight, so bright that, though the front of our part of the Crescent was in shadow, everything could be well seen, I threw a glance up at our window, and saw Lucy's head leaning out.
Lucy was languid and tired, and slept on after we had been called.
No news from Jonathan, and Lucy seems to be growing weaker, whilst her mother's hours are numbering to a close.
Lucy was pleased, and said: "I was hoping that he was nice; I do so always hope that people will be nice."
"Why didn't you talk, Lucy? He prefers young people, I'm sure.
"He is nice," exclaimed Lucy. "Just what I remember.
"Yet our rooms smell," said poor Lucy. "We dread going to bed."
Lucy tried to look demure, but could not help feeling a great fool.