He learnt that his sister was privately married—the name or rank of her husband could not be ascertained—and living in retirement in an obscure dwelling in the Borough, where she had given birth to a son. A creature of convenience, she could have cared less if her children were carried away by drunkards on the street. “Dear me! I wonder where Sir John picked her up. He was just getting cross about your being late for dinner—you know his way—when it came. All the world before you, all the ologies. ” “We will go to a very quiet place,” he assured her, “a place where I have often taken my own sisters. She was to be handed over with her dowry of three thousand Florins, plus her pet bird, six chickens, her mother’s fine linens, a small book of poetry. I followed you in.
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