Sue. Only t, dear girl! Only t.

    I open my eyes, and suppose look stupid.

    Do you see? says Ricatement, une—Mauds so me. I so say I  of it; but ter all, and o her. he makes a bow.

    ts fair, aint it? says Mrs Sucksby, still stroking my hair.

    But to say, Sues real sands also to get. tatement names en less tunes . . . t all means not ts Maud Lilly—true Maud Lilly— t ed? to vanise ago, t you

    you, to be passed off as Sue, and so make Mrs Sucksby rich?

    Make us bot so less, dear, as to rob you quite of everyt you, and o ss une. I got plans for us bot, t grand!—Saps her nose.

    I pus am too giddy, still, to stand. You are mad, I say to th. You are mad! I— Pass me off as Sue?

    ? says Richink we shall.

    Convince him, how?

    have been

    like parents to you, and so migo knooo—to any kind of misc met you at Briar, er my lemens ends to be struck . But of course you ry are a pair of doctors—t you, only yesterday, give tsey, and stand in a good lige ty minutes, ansions to the name of Susan?

    s me consider t. t,  o lose? Dear Maud, you o your name—w so much as a name!

    I  my fingers to my mout do it? Suppose, well him—

    tell ? tell ted to s girl?—looked on, ?

    I sit and c last I say, in a urn to Mrs Sucksby. And you, I say. Are you so o think, of Sue— Are you so vile?

    Ss. ickedness,  terms! terms of fiction. Do you t  in ttas—for comedys sake? Look about you, Maud. Step to to treet. t fiction. It