. A child—as innocent as a child! Nothing about life; bemused by the fairy stories you writers call novels! I don't know what you have done; I don't care. One day her mother swept into the bedroom of the family townhouse, sweeping across the floor with a bundle in her arms. "Take care of your charge. A few bricks, dislodged probably by his last descent, came clattering down the chimney, and as it was perfectly dark, gave him the notion that some one was endeavouring to force an entrance into the room. But you have not finished surely.
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