’ ‘Not, I trust, Nicholas Charvill?’ ‘Hardly. I never let her read stories, or have pets, dolls. Mr. James Figg was the most perfect master of self-defence of his day. She had looked up from her seat at the small round table in the centre of the parlour which, together with the wooden armchairs beside the small fireplace, and a sideboard next the single casement, was all the furniture the place afforded.
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