“How CAN I tell him?” whispered Miss Stanley. Not then. It was at his side below the breast, hidden by the dark colour of his close-fitting jacket. She felt this was the sensible way out of this oddly sinister situation. You'll tell me next, I dare say, that I recommended you to go and visit his mother so frequently under the plea of charity; to give her wine, and provisions, and money; to remove her from the only fit quarters for such people —the Mint; and to place her in a cottage at Willesden, of which you must needs pay the rent? Marry, come up! charity should begin at home.
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