You have been to me like a mother, not only a wetnurse. Ah! I shall never forget the figure Jack cut on that occasion. He brought another small loaf, and a can with which he replenished the pitcher, recommending Jack to be careful, as he would get nothing further till morning. The windows were small, and strongly grated, looking, in front, on Kendrick Yard, and, at the back, upon the spacious burial-ground of Saint Giles's Church. He scratched his upper lip reflectively. She inhaled a deep breath of air—London air.
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