gain.

    Jo you make so free  make free h yours—you hear me?

    Ric answer.  us be friends again, hmm?

    s o me, and I dodge it, dras aening of tc care, I say, to be t a friend of yours. I dont care to be t a friend to any of you. I come among you because I must; because Mrs Sucksby , and I  life left in me to t , remember the you all.

    And I sit, not in ty place beside  in t rocking-c table. I sit in it and it creaks. Joy gaze quickly at Mrs Sucksby, imes.

    And , forcing a laugake ts and ?

    Gone off on a job, says Joook Charley ag.

    Ss sleeping?

    Gentleman give em a dose, half an hour ago.

    Good boy, good boy. Keep it nice and quiet. S me. All rig of tea, per ans rock in my cs  coffee, ty,  up some er.—Like a cake, dear girl, to c do and fetc care for cakes?

    t could be served to me   be to me as ashes.

    S a mout, for poetry! As for the cake, now—? I look away.

    Dainty sets about making ticks, and strikes tte. tobacco smoke, and smoke from tting candles, already drifts from wall

    to ly gleam, as if painted ures—of csmen, raits—of Mr Ced to a board of cork; and are muc-holes.

    If I , I t ten t, make Mrs Sucksby give up tle. If I had a knife.

    Rics te, narroty dress,  trimmings, and I  ut, tut, emper not muc you en up in confinement. As apples do. And veal-calves.

    Go to hell, will you? I say.

    t, s, sounds a, sounds almost s. Still, dear—able, drops nt speak so nasty.

    I o m