Brown," said the old woman, "Good Mrs. Brown. Susan ain't far
off," said Good Mrs. Brown, "and the others are close to her, and
nobody's hurt."
The child shed tears of delight on hearing this, and accompanied the old
woman willingly. They had not gone far, when they stopped before a
shabby little house in a dirty little lane. Opening the door with a key
she took out of her pocket, Mrs. Brown pushed the child into a back
room, where there was a great heap of rags lying on the floor, a heap of
bones, and a heap of sifted dust. But there was no furniture at all, and
the walls and ceiling were quite black.
The child became so terrified, that she was stricken speechless, and
looked as though about to swoon.
"Now, don't be a young mule," said Good Mrs. Brown, reviving her with a
shake. "I'm not a' going to keep you, even above an hour. Don't vex me.
If you don't, I tell you, I won't hurt you. But if you do, I'll kill
you. I could have you killed at any time--even if you was in your own
bed at home. Now let's know who you are, and what you are, and all
about it."
The old woman's threats and promises, and Florence's habit of being
quiet, and repressing what she felt, enabled her to tell her little
history. Mrs. Brown listened attentively until she had finished.
"I want that pretty frock, Miss Dombey," said Good Mrs. Brown, "and that
little bonnet, and a petticoat or two, and those shoes, Miss Dombey, and
anything else you can spare.
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