He was standing by, rating her ladyship,—who can scarcely stir from the sofa,—while I was packing up her jewels in the case, and I observed that she tried to hide a small casket from him. 'Whoso giveth to the poor lendeth to the Lord;' that's my comfort. Her two sticks were bare and brown, her snugged canvas drab, her brasses dull, her anchor mottled with rust.
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