The theme was a masquerade. That her husband was not touching her anymore grew to be like a disease, something to be cured. He righted a chair and sat in it, his face in his hands. The only difference between the officers of Newgate and their brethren was, that they had enormous bunches of keys at their girdles, while the latter had left their keys at home. All the turnkeys were assembled. “My husband knows all. . It is most uncomfortable for every one concerned. His job as a painter was wearing him down acutely as he aged. “In a sort of beautiful garden-close—wearing lovely dresses and picking beautiful flowers?” “Ah! If one could!” “While those other girls trudge to business and those other women let lodgings.
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