“I suppose a girl MUST be underpaid and sweated,” said Ann Veronica. “So should you. "I call this ere crib the Little-Ease, arter the runaway prentices' cells in Guildhall. ’ ‘Like this?’ ‘Parfait. . "Hands off!" she exclaimed, "or you'll repent it. Do you know whoso portrait this is?" "I do not," replied Thames, repressing his tears, "but I believe it to be the portrait of my father. Wood, who looks after her comforts, and visits her constantly. “You’ve interested me enormously.
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