"Come here," said the petticoated tyrant. ‘Not entirely English then. Soup would help you feel better, soup and hot tea. I'll dig it up. Wood," added she in a hollow voice, and with a ghastly look, "gin may bring ruin; but as long as poverty, vice, and ill-usage exist, it will be drunk. " "My turn comes before yours, Sir," interposed his better half. The room was worse than pokey, it was shabby; and the view from the window, of chimney pots and slate roofs, wholly uninspiring. ’ ‘It will be worth the pain, you will see.
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