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Updated: May 10, 2025
"It's the first I ever 'ad, mum," faintly murmured the old lady, her eyes following every movement of Mrs. Morrison's hands with a look of almost animal anxiety. "Where did it come from?" "The young lady give it me yesterday, mum." "The young lady?" Mrs. Morrison's voice grew very loud. "Do you mean the person staying at the Pearces'?" Mrs. Jones gulped, and feebly nodded. "Most improper.
"I will use an argument you do not dream of, my, girl; and now, mark me, I am your friend. I have promised to solve the mystery surrounding your commission to the care of the Pearces many years ago. I will learn all about you, I will find the box." "What box?"
But was it then she started at her own thought was it then being fed at Baker's? And into the middle of this question, a tremendous one to be asked on the very threshold of the new life, walked Mrs. Morrison. "How d'y do," said Mrs. Morrison. "The vicar asked me to come and see you. I hope the Pearces make you comfortable." "Well I never," thought Mrs.
She nodded, and was turning down the lane. "Are you are you comfortable there?" he asked hurriedly, blushing. "The Pearces are tenants of ours. I hope they make you comfortable?" "Oh, we're only going to be there a few days. My uncle is buying a cottage, and we shall leave almost directly."
Fourteen years have passed since we were last in Pearce's house, and we viewed the place with mingled feelings of pleasure and pain. In spite of the gloom of the house, I dearly like the place, and shall be most grateful to Providence to be permitted the enjoyment of frequent walks over the Downs. But we must see what we can do for the Pearces."
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