” They were in the elder Widgett girl’s bedroom; Hetty was laid up, she said, with a sprained ankle, and a miscellaneous party was gossiping away her tedium. “Delicious!” she murmured. She had not chosen her life, but she was foggy on whether or not it was right to deny others the right to join her in her suffering. On the way, he hired a chair with a couple of stout porters, and ordered them to follow him. The books slid from her arms and fluttered to the floor. " "I didn't suspect you of so much superstition, Mr. “No,” said her brother, conclusively, “it’s not for a parent to go on persuading a child. ‘We’ll cross that bridge if and when we come to it.
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