is hard, it is wretched. It would have been yours, but for Mrs Sucksby''s kindness in keeping you from it. . .
At the door to the house with the shutters with the heart-shaped holes, a girl in a dirty bandage sits and feeds her baby. She lifts her head, catches my gaze; and shakes her fist at me.
I start back from the glass, and cover my face up with my hands.
When Mrs Sucksby comes again, however, I am ready.
''Listen to me,'' I say, going to her. ''You know that Richard took me away from my uncle''s house? You know my uncle is rich, and will seek me out?''
''Your uncle?'' she says. She has brought me a tray, but stands in the door-place until I move back.
''Mr Lilly,'' I say, as I do it. ''You know who I mean. He still thinks me his niece, at least. Don''t you suppose he will send a man, and find me? Do you think he will thank you, for keeping me like this?''
''I should say he will-—if he cares so much about it. Ain''t we made you cosy, dear?''
''You know you have not. You know you are keeping me here against my will. For God''s sake, give me my gown, won''t you?''