She returned home to the Beck house soaked and soggy. “You’re not a virgin, are you?” It was as much an accusation as a question. “Do you know him?” Lucy replied, “No, I haven’t met him. ” She said. Rattles were sprung; lanterns lighted, and hoisted at the end of poles; windows thrown open; doors unbarred; and, as if by magic, the street was instantaneously filled with a crowd of persons of both sexes, armed with such weapons as came most readily to hand, and dressed in such garments as could be most easily slipped on. "How is the patient?" he asked.
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