... not given you one before.” I went and took it out of her hands —those hands I had seen brown as gipsy’s, dyed purple with blackberry juice, covered with mud and dirt hunting for crabs on the shore. Thank you,” I said; I feel highly honoured.” But as I spoke ...

... rendered. Her hands picked the potatoes out of the bonfires for our delectation; and she would fill her pinafore full of blackberries for my especial eating. And yet X was cruel to her over and over again. Ah, well! Miss Gilderdale, you had your revenge ...