The flowers upon the mantel-shelf were withered and drooping—she had gathered them. She spent a very disagreeable afternoon and evening—it was raining fast outside, and she had very unwisely left her soundest pair of boots in the boothole of her father’s house in Morningside Park—thinking over the economic situation and planning a course of action. The glass in the windows was broken—the roof unthatched—the walls dilapidated. He ate of the bread with great appetite, and having drunk as much as he chose of the water, poured the rest on the floor.
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