‘I do not need for you to tell me this. Your second turn is not over, is it?” She laughed a little hardly. Some of the delicate colour which the afternoon walk had brought into her cheeks had already returned. We girls, my sister and I, were left quite alone when our father died, and I made up my mind to make some little place in the world for myself. “Who’ll mind the baby nar?” was one of the night’s inspirations, and very frequent.
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