We were to live in some wretched London suburb. Like the nuns, she hardly ever looked in a mirror. In one angle of the room stood a disused fire-place, with a rusty grate and broken chimney-piece; in the other there was a sort of box, contrived between the wall and the boards, that looked like an apology for a cupboard. ’ ‘Can’t say as I’m sorry to hear you say that, missie,’ confessed the sergeant, on a relieved note, as he locked the front door of the mansion and pocketed the key. "Here, Poll, help me!" Thus exhorted, Mrs. Every care had been taken of it, as well as of himself, by the humane inmates of the house in which he had sought shelter. "Souls," she answered, drily. He called a waiter. “I shall be very glad to have you for a friend,” he said, “loving friend.
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