Her eyes glistened in the darkness—for light was only admitted through a small grated window—like flames, and, as she fixed them on him, their glances seemed to penetrate his very soul. "Won't you take these?" For a space he merely stared at her, perhaps wondering if she were real. The fragrance of dryer sheets lay upon her like the snow that now drifted peacefully outside. "This your regular business?" "For the present. ” “It offered from fifteen to two-and-twenty shillings a week—for drudgery.
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