’ ‘What, for not wanting to marry you?’ ‘Imbecile. A siphon and a whisky bottle stood before him. I don’t see what you can have to say. She could not be more than twenty; and though want and other suffering had done the work of time, had wasted her frame, and robbed her cheek of its bloom and roundness, they had not extinguished the lustre of her eyes, nor thinned her raven hair. It’s true. What you said wanted saying. Your own safety—the child's safety—depends upon your candour. Her family are solid West End people, Kensington people. She was pleased and a little flattered by his interest and sympathy. That’s the wonder of it. “I have been bearing this—for your sake.
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