"How go you like your quarters, sauce-box?" asked Sharples, in a jeering tone. ’ She dropped to her knees before her old nurse and hugged the workroughened hand with both her own, looking up into Martha’s face where slow tears were tracing down her cheek. He temporized, and the girl raised her eyes once more to his. " "That I'll engage not to do. ‘Well?’ he uttered between heavy breaths.
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