“Well, well, Martin. From the window he saw The Tigress faring toward Copeley's! Then somebody was coming? Some political high muckamuck, probably. Couldn’t make head nor tail of that note of yours. I’ll give you, say, thirty-five guineas a week clear of expenses, and half of anything you earn above the two turns a night. . I pity her from the bottom of my heart. But go on. The recollection of the forlorn and loveless years—stirred into consciousness by the unexpected confrontation—bent her as the high wind bends the water-reed.
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