Lucy looked at her with a small measure of pity. I did not care—no woman really cares—to play the beggar maid to your King Cophetua. "But, though the storm has spared him, I will not. He tells me that you will not even see him. And yet, as she rose slowly to her feet and stood looking at him with outstretched hands, a strange mixture of expressions shining in her wonderful eyes, he realized in some measure the strength of her determination, felt the utter impotence of anything which he could say to her.
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