’ He sighed elaborately. She was practically an outcast, she had not even the ghost of a plan as to her future, and she had something less than five pounds in her pocket. And―and he wanted to help you. “Agreed,” he said with queer exaltation, and his grip tightened on her hand. Then a handkerchief was thrown over the cage, to prevent the bird from singing; it was her favourite canary. If Jack Sheppard or his mother ever enter this house again, I leave it—that's all. My friends consider it wonderfully faithful. ‘I know her, ma’am, but I know next to nothing of her story. Don’t think it was anything better than fever—or a bit beautiful.
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