" "You don't say so!" exclaimed Shotbolt. You would rather live like the scum of the earth, in that little brown hovel you call a house, in bourgeois paradise. ‘I did not think so. " "No," answered the ruffian, moodily. Prudence attacked her chicken wing. She thought of her aunt and that purse that was dropped on the table, and of many troublesome and ill-requited kindnesses; she thought of the help of the Widgetts, of Teddy’s admiration; she thought, with a new-born charity, of her father, of Manning’s conscientious unselfishness, of Miss Miniver’s devotion.
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