John said nothing. “Second class,” said some one, but first and second were all alike to her. Gold-handled, too. “Not a bit. No idea that you were here, though. But a far greater affliction was in store for her. You are my slave—and such you shall continue. In one angle of the room stood a disused fire-place, with a rusty grate and broken chimney-piece; in the other there was a sort of box, contrived between the wall and the boards, that looked like an apology for a cupboard.
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