He had informed her that to leave him would be a choice to live a life of meager subsistence. "At present under the care of his preserver—one Owen Wood, a carpenter, by whom he was brought up. She gathered her black purse, a pointless thing made of cardboard covered in sateen and bejeweled with an assortment of rhinestones. “No,” she said, under her breath, “you can’t face it. He had said so. What is it you’re after? Money, I suppose. ’ ‘Oh yes, or walked through the walls, I dare say.
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