When the disillusion comes, when the fairy story ends, if she is blessed with children, she doesn't mind. She sat on the edge of her bed and looked about her, at her room, at the row of black-covered books and the pig’s skull. Nevertheless there came a residuum of expostulations. "I beg pardon," he said. ‘I wish you joy of the wench. Then she sat watching the play, sometimes offering a helpful suggestion, sometimes letting her attention wander to the smoothly shining arms she had folded across her knees just below the edge of the table. I——” Then he stopped short, for he began to remember things. "To be sure, it's not surprising the poor little thing should be so marked; for, when I lay in the women-felons' ward in Newgate, where he first saw the light, or at least such light as ever finds entrance into that gloomy place, I had nothing, whether sleeping or waking, but halters, and gibbets, and coffins, and such like horrible visions, for ever dancing round me! And then, you know, Sir—but, perhaps, you don't know that little Jack was born, a month before his time, on the very day his poor father suffered.
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