I don't
suppose anybody thinks it worth while to look after me any more. Why should
they?--and Mr. Beeton really does everything I want."
"Don't you know any gentlemen and ladies, then, while you was--well?"
"A few, but I don't care to have them looking at me."
"I suppose that's why you've growed a beard. Take it off, it don"t become you."
"Good gracious, child, do you imagine that I think of what becomes of me these
days?"
"You ought. Get that taken off before I come here again. I suppose I can come,
can't I?"
"I'd be only too grateful if you did. I don't think I treated you very well in
the old days. I used to make you angry."
"Very angry, you did."
"I'm sorry for it, then. Come and see me when you can and as often as you can.
God knows, there isn't a soul in the world to take that trouble except you and
Mr. Beeton."
"A lot of trouble he's taking and she too." This with a toss of the head.
"They've let you do anyhow and they haven't done anything for you. I've only to
look and see that much. I'll come, and I'll be glad to come, but you must go
and be shaved, and you must get some other clothes--those ones aren't fit to be
seen."
"I have heaps somewhere," he said helplessly.
"I know you have.
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