Plote was sleeping or deaf. " "I tell 'ee what, saltwater," said Ben, "I'll lay you my fare—and that'll be two shillin'—I'm back in an hour. She had had to do away with many a leering foster father since she had started frequenting foster homes in the middle of the century. A crumpled-up newspaper thrown from the gallery hit her upon the cheek. So I packed up and came to London next day. Her aunt was a long time before she answered. But I may yet live to thwart them. But her request was unheeded.
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