” Lucy tried to ignore her awareness that Mike’s ears had perked up. "My good friend, Owen Wood,—Heaven preserve him!—is still living. She put her head out of the window. On examination it proved to be a flat bar of iron, nearly a yard in length, and more than an inch square. Taber and no one comment upon it. Many things were only words, sounds; she could not construct these words and sounds into objects; or, if she did, invariably missed the mark.
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