The other was helping Trodger with his operation upstairs. Her head had been shaved, and around it was swathed a piece of rag, in which a few straws were stuck. "It is," replied Sheppard. See!" she added, tearing the rag from her head,—"I had beautiful black hair once. Yet I fancy that we who have been poor ourselves must be the best judges of the needs of the people. It doesn’t seem to matter. And I want you for myself—for my wife. "What did you say to him?" inquired Jonathan, suspiciously. ” TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE: Typesetting and editing of the original book from which this e-text has been transcribed was inconsistent. She held out both her hands.
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