“My child, I do not wish. “I want to have no distractions. "Gracious Heaven!—is she the inmate of a mad-house?" "She is, Sir," answered the woollen-draper, sadly, "driven there by her son's misconduct. The door was opened, and Austin entered the cell, when he absolutely recoiled before the spectacle he beheld, and could scarcely have looked more alarmed if the prison had tumbled about his ears. At last I tried a dramatic agent, and got on the music hall stage. "You poor child!" said Prudence.
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