Chapter Twelve (第2/2页)
uncle— I look up. My uncle. hy should my uncle lie?
ell trut last. I dare ss t of unluess— a ma care to talk about too freely . . .
I gaze again at t upon it I liked, as a girl, to suppose made by a bayo. No, as if pierced and made hollow.
My motrapped to a table.—No. I put my o my eyes. t part, per not t. My mot in to be mindful of I s.
Sainly, o in a cell, says Ricime to time, for tisfa of gentlemen.—ell, no more of t, just yet. Mrs Sucksbys eye. And you ainly kept in fear of follo do to you?—save make you anxious, obedient, careless of your os—in otly fit you to your uncles fancy? Didnt I tell you once, w a sdrel he was?
You are aken.
No mistake, answers Mrs Sucksby.
You may be lying, even noh of you!
e may be. Saps you see, dear girl, .
My uncle, I say again. My uncles servants. Mr ay, Mrs Stiles . . .
But I say it, and I feel—t of a pressure—Mr ays s my ribs, iless my cheek:
une, surned out trash—/
I kno, I kno. I still to threw cups and saucers.
Damn t of my uncles bed, turn upon tell me, at Briar? Dont you t , and brio trid surprise me?
Surprise you? Maud, o do t.
I dont uand ry to. I am till of my uncle, my mots o the
mouts ticipation, I tion. I am t t t tomime, o let fly the fairies.
Mrs Sucksby ates, to a ss out a bottle. S tumblers t.
I suppose t of to; but a bit of brandy, meant for use noell me, w?
No all, says Rie and, so fused am I—so dazed and enraged—I take it at once, and sip it as if it ches me swallow.
Got a good mouts, she says approvingly.
Got a moutheyre marked up, Medie. hey, Maud?
I ans. I sit, at last, upourning into nigs s are papered tern of floands out against t be, and buzzes in the glass.
I sit s run, but run uselessly. I do not ask—as I ory and I or told—I do not ask o do o profit from ting and stunning of me. I only rage, still, against my uncle. I only t mad, not mad . . .
I suppose my expression is a strange one. Ric me. Dont t t woman, Marianne.
I s, my fatleman? t an orpill live? Did he never—?
Maud, Maud, o t you. tigs, no more t?
I dont kime, to tell me—
But Mrs Sucksby o me, and ligouches my arm.
ait up, dear girl, sly. Ss a fio up, and listen. You aint ory. tter parts to e. For ts been made rags of. time. t;ll your o;, and t. You remember, my dear? "As for being ter of a lady," says t, "you tell me t does being a lady do for you, except let you be ruined? I ; s;like a girl of t ; "You name ; I say—still meaning, as it o ;I ; s;I t o me once—ki ;
Maud, I say, c it. range. range. Sates, for anothen says:
Susan.
Riccill. My ts, t o turn like grinding op. Susan. Susan. I let t speak. I move, for
fear I sumble or sakes anots again, beside me, upon the bed.
Susan, ss o baby for a servant, dont it? So I t, any ill sill saying as ake te ;O; s;I I do? o you noook any ot;
s, briefly—very fast—in ts o it, th.
ts s s t are lying about to art up g at o to o tairs, just outside t door—silts s ops. S me, and I see ;e t!" I say. " ; s;You er s up a lady. let some ottle mot, in , too! But I stle a une on . S, if youll only take , and keep aill s! Dont you ; s;some moto my fat you? Dont you? Fods sake, say you do! ty pounds in t of my goell a living soul youve do."
Per i—I do not kno if to be asked to do. ouldnt you say, dear girl? . I t I said at last ;Keep your money. Keep your fifty pounds. I dont it. I , is tleman, as are tricky. Ill keep your baby, but I for you to e me out a paper, saying all you mean to do, and signing it, and sealing it; and t makes it binding." "Ill do it!" sraig;Ill do it!" And all do as I old you, t Susan Lilly is tunes are to be cut, and so on—and s and seals it s on t t it aint to be opeill ter turns eigy-one, sed to make it: but my mind must be eignt to risk taking was w. S. S.
And t t s—an old one, and a younger—getting out, and o and, tearing t of my o tcicular baby t is to turn out fair, like airs. I said, "ake o s a name for a lady after all. Remember your ; "Remember yours!" take it, and bring it do in ty cot. . .
Srifling little t o do! se. Done, ill t;; t;e kno ; No stopping ts t
tairs by her
pa—he mark of her
broti oo late to c, took tell you. I dare say s often of Sue; but no more t.
Surns keep it from spilling. roking t red t in its slipper goes tap upon t taken ime sil now.
My o is made by my palms. t lengthens. Mrs Sucksby leans closer.
Dear girl, s you say a o us? Soucill I speak or move. s, ratures to Rics before me.
You uand, Maud, rying to see about my fingers, your mot your uncle. Your life t you to live, but Sues; and Sue lived yours ..."
t dying men see, played before tness, ton of beads, my uncles naked eyes, t and useless, like ter. I suts. But, back. I am not errible laug be gly.
O t! tare? are you gazing at? Do you suppose a girl is sitting girl is lost! Sripped we! Se as a page of paper! Sed—
I try to take a breat as t does not e. I gasp, and sands and ches.
No madness, Maud, aste. Remember. You no close to my face. Dear girl— But I ser still—a er—and I jerk, as a fis jerk on to my bag and grope i, bring out my bottle of medie: s times, into to my lips. I taste it, t my o my mout kno at lengt t covers t my s. I lie—still tcime to time, in ch me.
Presently, tle nearer. Noly, are you better, darling? I do not ans o go, a her sleep?
Sleep be damned, ill believe s aps my face. Open your eyes, he says.
I say, I aken them from me.
c s better. Notle more
for you to kno a little more, ao me. Listen! Dont ask me, to, I s t. Do you feel trikes me. Very good.
t so mig ried to c.
Gentleman! s. No call at all. emper, t you? I believe youve bruised her. Oh, dear girl.
Soo be grateful, raigting back I done ime in t t to kno again, and t it not Briar, a sort of gentleman. I make a ry, and?
I lie, nursing my cakes tte from bes it to ch.
Go on, Mrs Sucksby, . tell t. As for you, Maud: listen last w your life was lived for.
My life lived, I say in a ion.
ell—crikes it—fiust end. o.
It ious. My not so t I ot, noo be fearful of ell me , o keep me, o keep me for ...
Mrs Sucksby sees me groful, and nods. Noart to get it, sarting to see. I got ts better, I got t it? Souctle closer. Like to see it? s sort of voice. Like to see the ladys word?
Ss. I do not ans s Ris o tons of affeta rustles. -o me, into —and t a folded paper. Kept t to me, all t than gold! Look, here.
tter, and bears a tilting instru: to Be Opened oer, Susan Lilly.—I see t name, and s s jealously and, like my u my uncle, noique book, let me take it; 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 plaside 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 o tell me, by a o t soon finis o turn out no sook ion from the
t of my y. Pirl! S sorry.—t was her slip.
Rico look crafty. As for me, s t to get tune be, t I een years furing 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 Rig so girls seek only to be t fanguished.
I look from o Mrs Sucksby, saying not often of you, s on. I supposed you you mig yrand-dad and uncle sake you a. t yrand-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 e 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 Ried my o me, lifts o stroke my hair.
o start being 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 eunes . . . 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 Rik we shall.
vince 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 sider t. t, o lose? Dear Maud, you o your name—w so much as a name!
I my fio 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. iess, terms! terms of fi. Do you t in ttas—for edys sake? Look about you, Maud. Step to to treet. t fi. It is is c .—C! s retcired I am! a days o a mad s? er? t may e later, I suppose. No matter if it does. Sues birthday
falls at tart of August. e o persuade you into our plot. I t.
I am gazing at ot speak. I am till, of Sue. ilts say . her, he adds, would have been sorry, also.
My motart to say.—I tc, I t of tcs o retd coug deliberate kind of way.
Noleman, says Mrs Sucksby anxiously as , dont tease her.
tease ill pulls at c t, from talking.
You oo mucs it?—Miss Lilly, dont mind y of time for talking of t.
Of my motrue mot you made out to be Sues. t c choked, on a pin.
On a pin! says Ric? Mrs Sucksby bites o them.
in me, noo be astonis hief I suppose will do . . .
Ric, grave. Gentleman, s got noto tell Miss Lilly, noo say to a girl in private.
o hem.
Ss, but leave. Ss beside me; again, I flinch away.
Dear girl, s of it is, t a pleasant o tell it; and I ougo kno once already, to Sue. Your mots Richard.
tell her, he says. Or I will.
So took before ts, not just for t for killing a man; and—o!
hanged?
A murderess, Maud, says Riche window of my room—
Gentleman, I mean it!
. I say again, hanged!
ever it means, better. tudies my face. Dear girl, dont t, s does it matter no you? rouble you here.
Ss a lamp: a score of gaudy surfaces—tead, cs upon tel-sart out of to tand, and again s soap! Got from a s. e in a year ago—I sa e and t, "No!" Kept it ime. And o a nap like a peac! Dont care for lavender, you one of rose. Are you looking, dear? So t of dra draicoats, and stogs, and stays! Bless me, al drops— one pair of blue, o es of my not knoo matcy she blue pair . . .
Scals turn. to blur. I o weep.
As if weeping could save me.
Mrs Sucksby sees me, and tuts. O t a sleman, you see ?
g, I say bitterly, unsteadily, to find myself o t the closeness and foulness of you!
Sepped back. Dear girl, s Rig take you?
I despise you, I say, fing me back!
Sares, t smiles. Sures about t t, I mean for you to keep at Lant Street! Dear girl, dear girl, you aken from make a lady of you. And a lady t je ting your s I said? I you by me, dear, ake panions? Only till I my u take t carriages and footmen well pearls, w dresses!
Ss o kiss me, to eat me. I rise and s tay ched scheme is done?
else? s to me? It uook you; it is me t you back. I been over for seventeen years. I been plotting and te since I first laid you in t Sue—
Sill harder. Sue, I say. Oh, Sue . . .
No I do everyt as ed?—kept idy, made a onplace
girl of give he life you had from
her?
You have killed her! I say.
Killed ors about dont e cell you.
It certainly doesnt, says Ric, dont fet. I sy asylum, doo
me.
You see, dear girl? Killed for me! nursed ook sick? t do you t o me, er, s, in parison s been made of you.
I stare at her. My God! I say. how could you? how could you?
Again, s?
But, to c o leave here—!
Ss my sleeve. You let take er, then?
From ter. Rids c till buzzes, still beats against tops. As if it is a signal, I turn, and sink out of Mrs Sucksbys grasp. I sink to my k t. I ermined. I ten doy, desire, love, for t freedom being taken from me utterly, is it to be if I fancy myself defeated?
I give myself up to darkness; and my o t.
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uncle— I look up. My uncle. hy should my uncle lie?
ell trut last. I dare ss t of unluess— a ma care to talk about too freely . . .
I gaze again at t upon it I liked, as a girl, to suppose made by a bayo. No, as if pierced and made hollow.
My motrapped to a table.—No. I put my o my eyes. t part, per not t. My mot in to be mindful of I s.
Sainly, o in a cell, says Ricime to time, for tisfa of gentlemen.—ell, no more of t, just yet. Mrs Sucksbys eye. And you ainly kept in fear of follo do to you?—save make you anxious, obedient, careless of your os—in otly fit you to your uncles fancy? Didnt I tell you once, w a sdrel he was?
You are aken.
No mistake, answers Mrs Sucksby.
You may be lying, even noh of you!
e may be. Saps you see, dear girl, .
My uncle, I say again. My uncles servants. Mr ay, Mrs Stiles . . .
But I say it, and I feel—t of a pressure—Mr ays s my ribs, iless my cheek:
une, surned out trash—/
I kno, I kno. I still to threw cups and saucers.
Damn t of my uncles bed, turn upon tell me, at Briar? Dont you t , and brio trid surprise me?
Surprise you? Maud, o do t.
I dont uand ry to. I am till of my uncle, my mots o the
mouts ticipation, I tion. I am t t t tomime, o let fly the fairies.
Mrs Sucksby ates, to a ss out a bottle. S tumblers t.
I suppose t of to; but a bit of brandy, meant for use noell me, w?
No all, says Rie and, so fused am I—so dazed and enraged—I take it at once, and sip it as if it ches me swallow.
Got a good mouts, she says approvingly.
Got a moutheyre marked up, Medie. hey, Maud?
I ans. I sit, at last, upourning into nigs s are papered tern of floands out against t be, and buzzes in the glass.
I sit s run, but run uselessly. I do not ask—as I ory and I or told—I do not ask o do o profit from ting and stunning of me. I only rage, still, against my uncle. I only t mad, not mad . . .
I suppose my expression is a strange one. Ric me. Dont t t woman, Marianne.
I s, my fatleman? t an orpill live? Did he never—?
Maud, Maud, o t you. tigs, no more t?
I dont kime, to tell me—
But Mrs Sucksby o me, and ligouches my arm.
ait up, dear girl, sly. Ss a fio up, and listen. You aint ory. tter parts to e. For ts been made rags of. time. t;ll your o;, and t. You remember, my dear? "As for being ter of a lady," says t, "you tell me t does being a lady do for you, except let you be ruined? I ; s;like a girl of t ; "You name ; I say—still meaning, as it o ;I ; s;I t o me once—ki ;
Maud, I say, c it. range. range. Sates, for anothen says:
Susan.
Riccill. My ts, t o turn like grinding op. Susan. Susan. I let t speak. I move, for
fear I sumble or sakes anots again, beside me, upon the bed.
Susan, ss o baby for a servant, dont it? So I t, any ill sill saying as ake te ;O; s;I I do? o you noook any ot;
s, briefly—very fast—in ts o it, th.
ts s s t are lying about to art up g at o to o tairs, just outside t door—silts s ops. S me, and I see ;e t!" I say. " ; s;You er s up a lady. let some ottle mot, in , too! But I stle a une on . S, if youll only take , and keep aill s! Dont you ; s;some moto my fat you? Dont you? Fods sake, say you do! ty pounds in t of my goell a living soul youve do."
Per i—I do not kno if to be asked to do. ouldnt you say, dear girl? . I t I said at last ;Keep your money. Keep your fifty pounds. I dont it. I , is tleman, as are tricky. Ill keep your baby, but I for you to e me out a paper, saying all you mean to do, and signing it, and sealing it; and t makes it binding." "Ill do it!" sraig;Ill do it!" And all do as I old you, t Susan Lilly is tunes are to be cut, and so on—and s and seals it s on t t it aint to be opeill ter turns eigy-one, sed to make it: but my mind must be eignt to risk taking was w. S. S.
And t t s—an old one, and a younger—getting out, and o and, tearing t of my o tcicular baby t is to turn out fair, like airs. I said, "ake o s a name for a lady after all. Remember your ; "Remember yours!" take it, and bring it do in ty cot. . .
Srifling little t o do! se. Done, ill t;; t;e kno ; No stopping ts t
tairs by her
pa—he mark of her
broti oo late to c, took tell you. I dare say s often of Sue; but no more t.
Surns keep it from spilling. roking t red t in its slipper goes tap upon t taken ime sil now.
My o is made by my palms. t lengthens. Mrs Sucksby leans closer.
Dear girl, s you say a o us? Soucill I speak or move. s, ratures to Rics before me.
You uand, Maud, rying to see about my fingers, your mot your uncle. Your life t you to live, but Sues; and Sue lived yours ..."
t dying men see, played before tness, ton of beads, my uncles naked eyes, t and useless, like ter. I suts. But, back. I am not errible laug be gly.
O t! tare? are you gazing at? Do you suppose a girl is sitting girl is lost! Sripped we! Se as a page of paper! Sed—
I try to take a breat as t does not e. I gasp, and sands and ches.
No madness, Maud, aste. Remember. You no close to my face. Dear girl— But I ser still—a er—and I jerk, as a fis jerk on to my bag and grope i, bring out my bottle of medie: s times, into to my lips. I taste it, t my o my mout kno at lengt t covers t my s. I lie—still tcime to time, in ch me.
Presently, tle nearer. Noly, are you better, darling? I do not ans o go, a her sleep?
Sleep be damned, ill believe s aps my face. Open your eyes, he says.
I say, I aken them from me.
c s better. Notle more
for you to kno a little more, ao me. Listen! Dont ask me, to, I s t. Do you feel trikes me. Very good.
t so mig ried to c.
Gentleman! s. No call at all. emper, t you? I believe youve bruised her. Oh, dear girl.
Soo be grateful, raigting back I done ime in t t to kno again, and t it not Briar, a sort of gentleman. I make a ry, and?
I lie, nursing my cakes tte from bes it to ch.
Go on, Mrs Sucksby, . tell t. As for you, Maud: listen last w your life was lived for.
My life lived, I say in a ion.
ell—crikes it—fiust end. o.
It ious. My not so t I ot, noo be fearful of ell me , o keep me, o keep me for ...
Mrs Sucksby sees me groful, and nods. Noart to get it, sarting to see. I got ts better, I got t it? Souctle closer. Like to see it? s sort of voice. Like to see the ladys word?
Ss. I do not ans s Ris o tons of affeta rustles. -o me, into —and t a folded paper. Kept t to me, all t than gold! Look, here.
tter, and bears a tilting instru: to Be Opened oer, Susan Lilly.—I see t name, and s s jealously and, like my u my uncle, noique book, let me take it; 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 plaside 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 o tell me, by a o t soon finis o turn out no sook ion from the
t of my y. Pirl! S sorry.—t was her slip.
Rico look crafty. As for me, s t to get tune be, t I een years furing 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 Rig so girls seek only to be t fanguished.
I look from o Mrs Sucksby, saying not often of you, s on. I supposed you you mig yrand-dad and uncle sake you a. t yrand-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 e 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 Ried my o me, lifts o stroke my hair.
o start being 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 eunes . . . 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 Rik we shall.
vince 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 sider t. t, o lose? Dear Maud, you o your name—w so much as a name!
I my fio 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. iess, terms! terms of fi. Do you t in ttas—for edys sake? Look about you, Maud. Step to to treet. t fi. It is is c .—C! s retcired I am! a days o a mad s? er? t may e later, I suppose. No matter if it does. Sues birthday
falls at tart of August. e o persuade you into our plot. I t.
I am gazing at ot speak. I am till, of Sue. ilts say . her, he adds, would have been sorry, also.
My motart to say.—I tc, I t of tcs o retd coug deliberate kind of way.
Noleman, says Mrs Sucksby anxiously as , dont tease her.
tease ill pulls at c t, from talking.
You oo mucs it?—Miss Lilly, dont mind y of time for talking of t.
Of my motrue mot you made out to be Sues. t c choked, on a pin.
On a pin! says Ric? Mrs Sucksby bites o them.
in me, noo be astonis hief I suppose will do . . .
Ric, grave. Gentleman, s got noto tell Miss Lilly, noo say to a girl in private.
o hem.
Ss, but leave. Ss beside me; again, I flinch away.
Dear girl, s of it is, t a pleasant o tell it; and I ougo kno once already, to Sue. Your mots Richard.
tell her, he says. Or I will.
So took before ts, not just for t for killing a man; and—o!
hanged?
A murderess, Maud, says Riche window of my room—
Gentleman, I mean it!
. I say again, hanged!
ever it means, better. tudies my face. Dear girl, dont t, s does it matter no you? rouble you here.
Ss a lamp: a score of gaudy surfaces—tead, cs upon tel-sart out of to tand, and again s soap! Got from a s. e in a year ago—I sa e and t, "No!" Kept it ime. And o a nap like a peac! Dont care for lavender, you one of rose. Are you looking, dear? So t of dra draicoats, and stogs, and stays! Bless me, al drops— one pair of blue, o es of my not knoo matcy she blue pair . . .
Scals turn. to blur. I o weep.
As if weeping could save me.
Mrs Sucksby sees me, and tuts. O t a sleman, you see ?
g, I say bitterly, unsteadily, to find myself o t the closeness and foulness of you!
Sepped back. Dear girl, s Rig take you?
I despise you, I say, fing me back!
Sares, t smiles. Sures about t t, I mean for you to keep at Lant Street! Dear girl, dear girl, you aken from make a lady of you. And a lady t je ting your s I said? I you by me, dear, ake panions? Only till I my u take t carriages and footmen well pearls, w dresses!
Ss o kiss me, to eat me. I rise and s tay ched scheme is done?
else? s to me? It uook you; it is me t you back. I been over for seventeen years. I been plotting and te since I first laid you in t Sue—
Sill harder. Sue, I say. Oh, Sue . . .
No I do everyt as ed?—kept idy, made a onplace
girl of give he life you had from
her?
You have killed her! I say.
Killed ors about dont e cell you.
It certainly doesnt, says Ric, dont fet. I sy asylum, doo
me.
You see, dear girl? Killed for me! nursed ook sick? t do you t o me, er, s, in parison s been made of you.
I stare at her. My God! I say. how could you? how could you?
Again, s?
But, to c o leave here—!
Ss my sleeve. You let take er, then?
From ter. Rids c till buzzes, still beats against tops. As if it is a signal, I turn, and sink out of Mrs Sucksbys grasp. I sink to my k t. I ermined. I ten doy, desire, love, for t freedom being taken from me utterly, is it to be if I fancy myself defeated?
I give myself up to darkness; and my o t.
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