up by every t—turned, to somet meant t to t tying ting, about he noose . . .

    And t—just a single moment, less time t takes to say it—of perfect, aillness: of topping of babies cries, to s and open mout: t be, t be, t, t— And, next, too soon, too quick, ttle of t fell—ts lengtomac .

    No for a second. I opened turned, and sa Mrs Sucksby, not Mrs Sucksby at all, but o look like a  and a go uffed raw—-

    I moved a  to t. topped t. ts, more cries, more dreadful laugo cheer myself,

    at ot . Noened as t up, and it seemed to me, even in my grief, t I understood. S as . Shes dead—and were alive.

    Dainty came again t nigo bring me anot eat any of it. e only  togetalked of o tc off to climb it. I  didnt say t to Dainty. S t, said t it rue, after all,   t, o dropping  Mrs Sucksby had held herself very boldly, and died very game.

    I remembered t dangling tailors figure, gripped tigs corset and gown; and I wondered .

    But t  to be t on. to see to, no folloo look about me, ; to understand t t make my o, quite alone. I  on t: a man y bared   us alone since t knoo take it. But I kneime. I kne, I supposed, take a regular job, at a dairy, a dyers, a furriers— t of it, however, made

    me  to be sick. Everybody in my  regular ay crooked. Dainty said sreet-ted a fourt s, not quite catc street-tty poor lay, compared to o.

    But it  mig t for finding out anytter. I  t or t for anyt all. Bit by bit, everyt  at Lant Street ill  dress I ry!—and no loo