Lucy’s guts ached with jealousy and bitterness, building in a knot that twisted in her stomach, rag-like. Bulging out more in the middle than at the two extremities, it resembled an enormous cask set on its end, —a sort of Heidelberg tun on a large scale,—and this resemblance was increased by the small circular aperture—it hardly deserved to be called a door—pierced, like the bung-hole of a barrell, through the side of the structure, at some distance from the ground, and approached by a flight of wooden steps. “Why not?” He repeated, demanding. To go to him, to console him! But she stirred not from her hiding place. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www. “I knew you wouldn’t mind.
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