” They were in the elder Widgett girl’s bedroom; Hetty was laid up, she said, with a sprained ankle, and a miscellaneous party was gossiping away her tedium. " "That likeness is the chief cause of my misery," replied the widow, shuddering. The moment I entered the room, and found you a prisoner in the hands of Jonathan Wild, I guessed how matters stood, and acted accordingly. I've left mine on the spikes of the New Prison, and must borrow yours. Peste, where was her handkerchief? She remembered then that it had been lost in the struggle with Gerald. She entered and approached the bunk. Aren't we funny? And just as I was beginning to lose faith in human beings, to have someone like this come along! It is almost as if she were acting a rôle, and she isn't.
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