Manning,” she said, “for a time—Will you tell no one? Will you keep this—our secret? I’m doubtful—Will you please not even tell my aunt?” “As you will,” he said. She was to have fifteen pounds, and no more. I tell you this child would have been strangled. She sat there, a mark for boulevarders, the unconscious object of numberless wondering glances. ‘I think that was what began his downfall.
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