“The point is we’re not toys, toys isn’t the word; we’re litter. When first brought under consideration, she was a miserable and forlorn object; squalid in attire, haggard in looks, and emaciated in frame. Wood. “I wish I didn’t swear. Her first impulse was to fly to the window; and she was about to pass through it, at the risk of sharing the fate of the unfortunate lady, when her arm was grasped by some one in the act of ascending the ladder from without. She said that your mother was only fifteen when she went to live with them.
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