Then she fell into a fever of remorse for the habit of bad language she had acquired. “You know what? You’re right. It was at breakfast on this day that he told Ruth he had sent to Batavia for some dresses. You must know, Sir, when he was a lad, the day after he broke into his master's house in Wych Street, he picked a gentleman's pocket in our church, during sarvice time,—that he did, the heathen. But I've stacks of books and a grand piano-player. ‘Your wife?’ ‘My wife,’ he repeated, rising also, his smile mocking her. Goopes when at home dressed simply in a pajama-shaped suit of canvas sacking tied with brown ribbons, while his wife wore a purple djibbah with a richly embroidered yoke.
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