Oh dear!—how sorry I am I ever left Wych Street. She was saying good-bye to childhood and home, and her making; she was going out into the great, multitudinous world; this time there would be no returning. Though Lucy refused to personally implicate her, Mr. Hot coffee and cakes were sent in to them in the morning by some intelligent sympathizer, or she would have starved all day. Wood. I thought it would be magnificent to have a great house in Paris, and more money than any other woman.
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