Part 3 She dressed carefully for dinner in a black dress that her father liked, and that made her look serious and responsible. But I was sorry for poor Jack—as I am still, and hoped he would mend. The first time, I overlooked the offence; but the second time, when I had planned to break open the house of his master, the fellow who visited you to-night,—Wood, the carpenter of Wych Street,—he betrayed me. I was always told my mother died the day I was born.
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