“Where are we going?” Lucy asked desperately as Michelle began to twitch with greater frequency. I am a pauper, and as yet I have not discovered how to earn money. Then a third secretarial opening occurred and renewed her hopes again: a position as amanuensis—with which some of the lighter duties of a nurse were combined— to an infirm gentleman of means living at Twickenham, and engaged upon a great literary research to prove that the “Faery Queen” was really a treatise upon molecular chemistry written in a peculiar and picturesquely handled cipher. She simply refuses to see or hear from me again.
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