“Dear husband,” she murmured. I never had even a real doll," she added, as she snuggled the flea-bitten head to her heart. "You have said," pursued the widow, "that she, who has once erred, is irreclaimable. ” “May I put you in a hansom?” he asked, lifting his stick. "Begone, wretch!" cried the mother, stung beyond endurance by his taunts; "or I will drive you hence with my curses. “Hey, Mike. ” She turned her face to the fire, gripped her hands upon her elbows, and drew her thin shoulders together in a shrug.
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