"I cannot do it. He used to live in a boarding-house in Russell Square. ” Anna looked at her sister gravely. Deserted by his older companion in iniquity, and instigator to crime, he did not know what might become of him; nor, as we have observed, was the sad spectacle he had just witnessed, without effect. The daughters, he had hoped, would be their mother’s care. The Becks were the best foster family that she had ever had. "Couldn't you speak to him?" "What?—and be insulted for my trouble? No, thank you!" "That is it. So he bring me to see this Suzanne, who were staying at an inn nearby. "Goodness only knows what he's reserved for," rejoined the widow in a desponding tone; "but if Mynheer Van Galgebrok, whom I met last night at the Cross Shovels, spoke the truth, little Jack will never die in his bed. . . .
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