Standing over the pierced Rhea, Lucy bayed, a long cry that was half-scream and half-howl. On the next morning—Sunday—the day on which he expected his mother's funeral to take place, he set out along the Harrow Road. "To him I owe everything," continued the widow, "life itself—nay, more than life,—for without his assistance I should have perished, body and soul. Sheila was a stout woman, her bosoms huge, her face 110 wide and square. Anyhow, it were me as got you down to the wetnurse. People ran out of their shops to join the pursuit; and, by the time Wild had got into Field-lane, he had a troop of fifty persons at his heels —all eager to assist in the capture.
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