"No offence, I hope, my dear Mrs. “I will not rob you of your coffee, most dutiful of sisters!” she exclaimed. There was no point in rushing into the long walk home. “I imagine,” Sir John said, “that your sister would acquaint him with it. "It's wretched enough, indeed, Sir," rejoined the widow; "but, poor as it is, it's better than the cold stones and open streets. She elected to go to prison. You have the look in your eyes to-night which you had that day, the look of a frightened child. CHAPTER II. .
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