“Who killed her husband?” “Go and nurse him, missus!” “Murderess!” Anna looked from left to right. One gets a lot more fun married. Accordingly, when she arrived at the Shovels, with which, as an old haunt in her bygone days of wretchedness she was well acquainted, instead of entering the principal apartment, which she saw at a glance was crowded with company of both sexes, she turned into a small room on the left of the bar, and, as an excuse for so doing, called for something to drink. The boy had all kinds of opportunity; but it's the old story of father making it too easy. ’ She grimaced. Anna sighed as she reflected that her sister had simply revelled in her indiscretions.
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