sink piled y plates, and t inside you could ell day from nigy  told o knoigortoises off on  from room to room looking for Isabelle, but on taking in tness t lurked everywhere.

    tired easily, and s manage tairs very  s, or meant to clean t, and to be , sly concentrated on feeding t mucy, and it y, and  stayed udy,  dropped to to be, and it soon occurred to  it o c out once a year to do it once a week.

    Mrs. Maudsley didn’t like ains, and sig tarnis at tairs and t music t tered all over t doomatically to retrieve a playing card, t   a loss, so great  t covering it and, being a fastidious,  it doorn beto end tact bety, faintly sticky playing card, and o put t  t one. Eventually, ible s on t of the room.

    tter. It y, certainly, and t  t even in t  tic family, s bed. tucked into a dark corner bets of s  a flea-ridden blanket and a filt first sook it for a cat’s bed. tted t out. It was Jane Eyre.

    From to ture o facilitate turned to face a  s place under t be inctly. On tained blackened, brittle stems, and around it a neat circle of papery petals like aso up; it crumbled, leaving a nasty yelloain between e-gloved fingers.

    Mrs. Maudsley seemed to slump doo tool.

    tor’s  a bad o believe t God actually did cen to everytoo taken up ing out to feeling in o notice any ot  all t realizing it.

    ool, staring into space? t keep topped up. No ent of to o  racted, absent fas she piano.

    t resounded in t, most un-pianolike noise imaginable. t bec