” She said. ” Lucy would always press her face into her mother’s skirts when she heard the ending, no matter how many times she heard it. And now she was witnessing or observing the complicated machinery of civilization through which they had come, at length to land on the beach of her island. The struggles of the wounded man were desperate—so desperate, that in his agony he overset the table, and, in the confusion, tore off the cloth, and disclosed a face horribly mutilated, and streaming with blood.
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