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Updated: June 15, 2025
One evening it was before the advent of this Hasluck I remember climbing out of bed, for trouble was within me. Creatures, indescribable but heavy, had sat upon my chest, after which I had fallen downstairs, slowly and reasonably for the first few hundred flights, then with haste for the next million miles or so, until I found myself in the street with nothing on but my nightshirt.
"For Hasluck," replied my father, "it will be much more convenient. He grumbles every time at the distance." "I have never been quite able to understand," said my mother, "why Mr. Hasluck should have come so far out of his way. There must surely be plenty of solicitors in the City." "He had heard of me," explained my father. It's not everyone who would care for him as a client.
I try hard I do the right thing, but it turns out wrong. It always does." "But I thought Mr. Hasluck was bringing us such good fortune," I said, looking up in surprise. "We're getting on, aren't we?" "I have thought so before, so often," said my father, "and it has always ended in a in a collapse."
"When I was a girl," said my aunt, breaking suddenly upon the passing silence, "I used to look into the glass and say to myself: 'Fanny, you've got to be amiable, and I was amiable," added my aunt, challenging contradiction with a look; "nobody can say that I wasn't, for years." "It didn't pay?" suggested Hasluck. "It attracted," replied my aunt, "no attention whatever."
Next time old Hasluck knocked at our front door a maid in cap and apron opened it to him, and this was but the beginning of change. New oilcloth glistened in the passage.
Hasluck wanted you to spend it as you like. If I told you, that would be spending it as I liked. Your father and I want to see what you will do with it." The good little boys in the books bought presents or gave away to people in distress. For this I hated them with the malignity the lower nature ever feels towards the higher. I consulted my aunt Fan.
Say it again," smiling upon him and paying close attention to his every want. Even old Hasluck, opposite to him, and who, though pleasant enough in his careless way, was far from being a slave to politeness, roared himself purple, praising some new disinfectant of which this same Teidelmann appeared to be the proprietor. "My wife swears by it," bellowed Hasluck, leaning across the table.
I allowed a week to elapse after receiving old Hasluck's letter before presenting myself at Stamford Hill. It was late one afternoon in early summer. Hasluck had not returned from the City, Mrs. Hasluck was out visiting, Miss Hasluck was in the garden. I told the supercilious footman not to trouble, I would seek her there myself.
There was silence between them for awhile. Then said my father in a cheery tone: "I've broken with old Hasluck." "I thought you would be compelled to sooner or later," answered my mother. "Hasluck," exclaimed my father, with sudden vehemence, "is little better than a thief; I told him so." "What did he say?" asked my mother. "Laughed, and said that was better than some people."
The rent of the room, if I remember rightly, was three shillings a week with cooking, half-a-crown without. I purchased a methylated spirit stove with kettle and frying-pan, and took it without. Old Hasluck would have helped me willingly, and there were others to whom I might have appealed, but a boy's pride held me back. I would make my way alone, win my place in the world by myself.
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