Lucy could see the anger in her silhouette, the punishments and the grounding being formulated for the now dead daughter. He looked around, and as he heard that deafening shout,— as he felt the influence of those thousand eyes fixed upon him,—as he listened to the cheers, all his misgivings—if he had any—vanished, and he felt more as if he were marching to a triumph, than proceeding to a shameful death. Wood could not avoid making a slight shuffling sound. It is no more a murder, but a duel, you understand.
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