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" "Poor soul!—poor soul!" groaned Wood, brushing the tears from his vision. "What's that?" asked Wild. Michelle had charitably taken to sitting with Lucy during Lunch Period, where she assumed a station at the outer edges of the Cafeteria, the crowd diffusing in concentric orbits, the middle tables reserved for only the most prestigious castes. CHAPTER XXIII. ” “By all means,” Brendon answered. A shout was heard at a little distance, and, the next moment, a person rushed with breathless haste to the stair-head. But don't let my name frighten you.
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