On a pallet in one corner lay a pale emaciated female. For thirty years I have lived alone; but once upon a time I lived among men. You would steal from me then the only man I ever cared a snap of the fingers about. Dear me, what a difference it has made! No one would ever think that we were sisters. ‘You’ve found her out?’ ‘Tell us at once,’ urged Miss Froxfield. Kneebone took his leave. She will not confide in me.
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