Constance Widgett’s abundant copper-red hair was bent down over some dimly remunerative work—stencilling in colors upon rough, white material—at a kitchen table she had dragged up-stairs for the purpose, while on her bed there was seated a slender lady of thirty or so in a dingy green dress, whom Constance had introduced with a wave of her hand as Miss Miniver. Horrid snorters! So long, Vee! Just suggested it. " The young man thanked his informant, and was about to follow his instructions, when the other called after him—— "I say, master, did you ever hear tell of Mr. The houses on Snow Hill were thronged, like those in Old Bailey.
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