ss me touc,  of . te unbroken. tamp is my mot mine, not mine—

    M.L.

    You see it, dear girl? Mrs Sucksby says. trembles. S back to ure and look—lifts it to s o it, turns ores it to its place inside tons  Ricc says nothing.

    I speak, instead. Se it, I say. My voice is te it. took  then?

    Mrs Sucksby turns. ly smoot sractedly. tone c me,  linger on anot! ? t mont us. For noo. No penny to go to ter—meaning you, dear girl, so far as till ter marries. tlemen for you—aint it? S me a note to tell me, by a nurse. t o t soon finis o  turn out no sook ion from the

    t of my y. Poor girl! S sorry.—t was her slip.

    Rico look crafty. As for me, s t to get tune  be, t I een years for figuring it out in. I t many times of you.

    I turn my face. I never asked for your ts, I say. I dont  them now.

    Ungrateful, Maud! says Ricting so  girls seek only to be t fancy inguished.

    I look from o Mrs Sucksby, saying not often of you, s on. I supposed you   you mig your grand-dad and uncle sake you a. t your grand-dad died. tly, in try; and  you in a quiet oo. tter—Means  o me,  Sue to pin it to? t I   reet like ours; to keep . t over— kno use  t, but never quite knoo come clear, leman— t you migly married, turns into my kno  must secretly marry you . . . Its te, to look at Sue and knoh her. She shrugs. ell, and

    no. Sues you, dear girl. And  you here for is—

    Listen, Maud! says Ricurned my o me, lifts o stroke my hair.

    o start being