She brought her hands up to her head and ripped out two long chunks of her hair, pulling out shreds of scalp. They chatted pleasantly as he drove around the neighborhood for a half an hour, then stopped by the Diedermayer house. Lucy felt her eyes misting up, turning traitor. I’m not half smart enough for the West End. This is a mere boy. Russell burned like a beacon, but Capes illuminated by darting flashes and threw light, even if it was but momentary light, into a hundred corners that Russell left steadfastly in the shade. The aspect of the place, so far as he could discern through the gloom, was strange to him; but chancing to raise his eyes above the level of the surrounding habitations, he beheld, relieved against the sombre sky, the tall steeple of Saint Giles's church, the precursor of the present structure, which was not erected till some fifteen years later.
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