d pale and tired s Mrs Sucksbys cry, sill; ill sed t of it rands of o it. to o glitter.
I sat, and put took my hand. I said,
I have been done very wrong, Mrs Sucksby.
Mrs Sucksby slo, she said.
God knoold you! trut art. t me up, beto take me in to be her—
Joled. Double-cross, —oh! he laughed. You pigeon!
I did not seem to matter. Mrs Sucksby looked, not at me, but at our joined tunned her.
A bad business, sly.
orse t! I cried. O and starved me! I ime, so h—!
S before her face.
No more, dear girl! No more. I cant bear to .
Did torture you, ongs? asked Jo you in a strait-coat?
t me in a tartan gos of—
Of iron?
I ated, t Charles.
Boots laces, I said. t t, if they gave me laces, I should hang myself. And my hair—
Did t it? said Dainty, sitting, putting a —from Jo off?
I ated again, t to my head.
ears. O it wc now!
ts all rig to knourned again to Mrs Sucksby, and touc of my dress. tole, I said. And to London. My only t o get back o you. For o me in t of t Gentleman must old you, about , I had died.
Sook my , s of it.
But I knew you would ask for my body.
ouldnt I! Straight off!
t ed you all.
oot you the nerve.
I looked into Mrs Sucksbys face. But I kne believe it, I said, of your own daugigil you found me.
Dear girl, I— O you, too, in anot my searc from Joy
Did you, Mrs Sucksby? said Dainty.
My dear, I did. I sent out a man, confidentially
S Maud. But Maud lit mine, for sly and suddenly,
You look ill, Sue.
It ime s and— despite myself—I t of times s, so softly as t, and felt myself colour.
You do look done up, said Dainty. You look like you aint slept in a week.
I , I said.
to rise, you go upstairs no your omorroy will come and fix you up in one of your old gowns, and dress your hair—
Dont go to sleep ting oheres da