She came to spend hours with the bastard children that the women brought, dressing and feeding the tiny ones, inventing games for the older ones. "My mother,—my poor mother!" exclaimed Jack. The house will be well rid of him, for a more idle, good-for-nothing reprobate never crossed its threshold. It was still possible the child might be in safety. It was the blood she found that cemented her decision that her foster daughter was a criminal. "This gentleman wants a pair of oars," said the landlord. He himself, middle-aged, steeped in traditions of the City and moneymaking, very ill-skilled in all the lighter graces of life, as he himself well knew, could yet come to her invested with something of the halo of romance by the almost magical powers of an unlimited banking account. They all left the room. But the rise of the chest was quite perceptible now. Opposite, his pupil stood with bowed head and clasped hands. He waved a cordial goodbye.
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