The violence of the collision nearly threw him backwards, and caused him to swerve as he sprang. Look at me, and answer me one question. It is of no use. You truly are your mother’s, Lucia. ‘Oh no, you don’t,’ said Gerald in a low tone. Lucy grabbed its handle, her broken bones mending inside her causing her to wince in pain. Their conversation was conducted in the flash language, and, though unintelligible to Wood, was easily comprehended by this companion, who learnt, to her dismay, that the wounded man had received his hurt from her son, whose courage and dexterity formed the present subject of their discourse.
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