t me now? ould you?
I do not ans. I o any kind of solicitor or la I pass my days in a sort of restless let nig is too to sleep—at night I
d at the narrow window in Mrs Sucksbys room, gazing blankly
at treet.
tome a, Mrs Sucksby take a fever, from t?
May one take a fever, from a draugid air? I lie do il so to the deeper.
I almost forget t I mean to escape. Per. For at last ternoon—at tart of July, I ty to guard me.
You cells o , my dear? I s be gone an , shall I?
I do not ansy lets , ts ts, draable-top, and takes up titcolen listlessly, o do to try?
I s my eyelids fall; and presently, s; and am suddenly ry teal t! So s. ticks off tes—fifteen, ty, ty-five. go.
Sleep, Dainty. Dainty, sleep. Sleep, sleep . . . Sleep, damn you!
But s up.
Dainty, I say.
S is it?
Im afraid— Im afraid I must visit the privy.
Ss down you? Rige?
Yes. I place my omachink I am sick.
S titution?
I t must be. Im sorry, Dainty. ill you open the door5
Ill go hough.
You neednt. You migay at your se;
Mrs Sucksby says I must go ime; else Ill catc. here.
Sretcained beneatain edged to tc me: I kno, even if I mig once and c knock t I imagine doing it, and my s gro think I could.
Go on, sate. s up?
Notc to me, slo , I say.
No, Ill . S take the air.
t is I step inside and close t it; t me. ttle s broken pane stopped up is cracked and smeared. I stand and te. All rigy. I do not ansamped e. From a . Ladies and Gentlemens Cast-off Clotion, anted for— elston amp; New-laid Eggs—
think, Maud.
I turn to face t my mouto a gap in the wood.
Dainty, I say quietly.
is it?
Dainty, I am not fetching.
? Sries t, miss.
I cant. I darent. Dainty, you must go to t
in my room upstairs. ill you? there. ill
you? O rushes! I am afraid of
the men coming back—
Oan