She walked down the station approach, past the neat, obtrusive offices of the coal merchant and the house agent, and so to the wicket-gate by the butcher’s shop that led to the field path to her home. “Take my advice,” he said hoarsely. Do you think I forget it? Didn't they help themselves to all the plate and the money —to several of my best dresses, and amongst others, to my favourite kincob gown; and I've never been able to get another like it! Marry, come up! I'd hang 'em all, if I could. “Well, I do. A woman was born to have children, particularly male children. ‘That will be a matter for her future husband to decide. You do not love your husband, you have married him for a position —to escape from—things which you feared. “You are mine, Annabel, and nothing shall ever make me give you up. ‘That there governess didn’t like it, of course, me being the lodgekeeper’s girl, and Martha just a country wench like me.
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