Straitened circumstances would not have mattered; a mother would have managed somehow. ‘And you, my girl, if you’d been born at all, would have been just what you think you are. She bathed frequently with ash and lye soap stolen from traders. “Hey,” he said, his eyes slowly adjusting to the soft blackness. ” “Except,” said Constance, surveying her work with her head on one side, “to keep the matches from the litter. A scene now ensued, highly characteristic of the age, and the occasion.
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