” She replied with a rehearsed answer, “I was told that my real mother died the day I was born. " CHAPTER IV. “Can you not understand? It is of no use your taking my identity and all the burden of my iniquities upon your dear shoulders if I am to be recognized the moment I show my face in London. I do not desire to extenuate my guilt—far less to defend it; but I would show you, and such as you —who, happily, are exempted from trials like mine—how much misery has to do with crime. . While there's life there's hope. Or perhaps my father once. The man looked hard at him. “This is Mr. A little Cockney recovered it, and made ridiculous attempts to get to her and replace it.
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