CHAPTER XX. Have you ever heard the name of Meysey Hill?” “Meysey Hill?” He repeated it after her, and she knew at once from his tone and his quick glance into her face that the name possessed some significance for him. I will take you for thirty-five shillings a week. He tasted like cinders and ash, but not of smoke. Frequently she would doze in her chair; but the slightest movement on the bed aroused her. But it wasn’t the harassment that bothered her.
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