I know I am undeserving of your bounty; but if I were to tell you what hardships I have undergone—to what frightful extremities I have been reduced—and to what infamy I have submitted, to earn a scanty subsistence for this child's sake, —if you could feel what it is to stand alone in the world as I do, bereft of all who have ever loved me, and shunned by all who have ever known me, except the worthless and the wretched,—if you knew (and Heaven grant you may be spared the knowledge!) how much affliction sharpens love, and how much more dear to me my child has become for every sacrifice I have made for him,—if you were told all this, you would, I am sure, pity rather than reproach me, because I cannot at once consent to a separation, which I feel would break my heart. And, in fact, all round the problem you don’t know and I don’t see how I could possibly have told you before. A young man turned to pay the cabman. Jack was so harrassed that he felt half inclined to stand at bay. “Does it hurt?” Michelle asked. "The worst house in the neighbourhood—the constant haunt of reprobates and thieves," groaned Wood. He had promised her some books, for she had voiced her hunger for stories. She moved then, fast, taking refuge behind a Chinese screen that was set beside the four-poster at the back of the room. .
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