Lucy sat paralyzed, as still as Tiger Lily on the death raft. Byby. Upon this island whither he was bound there would be no diversions, breathing spells; the battle would be constant. Her figure was, in some measure, hidden by a large scarf, and a deep hood drawn over the head contributed to her disguise; still it was evident, from her lofty bearing, that she had nothing in common, except an interest in their proceedings, with the crew by whom she was surrounded. She hated tricking Shari, whose joy for life was the only thing that made her naive enough to fall for laced iced tea or hot cocoa, depending on the season.
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