Earles scratched his chin for a moment thoughtfully. Niece and aunt regarded each other for a moment over their pockethandkerchiefs with watery but antagonistic eyes, each far too profoundly moved to see the absurdity of the position. She's my mealticket. So, one day, because God was wroth, her mother ran away with a blackguard, and died in the gutter, miserably.
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