It was not for a week or a month. Oh, John. John said nothing. Everywhere I went and rapped at a door I found behind it another dreadful dingy woman—another fallen queen, I suppose— dingier than the last, dirty, you know, in grain. ” “I’ll pay you if I have to work at shirt-making at threepence an hour. ” “And you?” Annabel exclaimed. “Until you marry, Vee,” said Hetty. ” “But why?” “He’s married—and, I believe, living separated from his wife.
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