Mr. "Thank Heaven! I'm not basely born. In one angle of the room stood a disused fire-place, with a rusty grate and broken chimney-piece; in the other there was a sort of box, contrived between the wall and the boards, that looked like an apology for a cupboard. “I’ve got bad faults. There’s hardly a night she doesn’t sneak out of the house. The wall of the sky, the wall of the horizon, the wall behind which each human being hid—the wall behind which she herself was hiding! If only her mother had lived, her darling mother! Presently the unhappy puzzlement left her face; and an inward glow began to lighten it. He saw, without any particular regret, that this year he would have to forego the junket; but there would be ample compensation in the study of these queer youngsters.
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