’ Mrs Prudence Sindlesham, a widow of several years’ standing, so she told Gerald, was a scarecrow of a female, long and lank of limb in a figure that had once been willowy. 'Sdeath! what can I have done with it? Oh! here it is," cried Hogarth, picking it from the ground. Sometimes it seemed to him that he was an impostor: that Ruth believed him to be one Howard Spurlock, when he was only masquerading as Spurlock. Don’t you think? Tum, tay, tum, tay. I wonder if I should have locked you up if I’d been your father. It was horrible, but she must do it. Inside was Anna, leaning a little forward to watch the passers-by, bright-eyed, full to the brim of the insatiable curiosity of youth—the desire to understand and appreciate this new world in which she found herself.
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