The next page was a drawing that she had made in pen and ink of his face, or what she had remembered of it. Spare me yet a little while, Father! not for my own sake, but for the sake of this poor babe. It is the old story of a Westerner meddling with an Eastern custom. ‘Prudence? This name I have heard it spoken. Dim possibilities that she would not seem to look at even to herself gesticulated in the twilight background of her mind. He used to live in a boarding-house in Russell Square.
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