Excerpt from The Queen of Love a Novel, Vol. 2 of 3
"You did what was wrong, Queenie." Andrew said the words on the Monday afternoon, when he had returned to Alma Terrace after his work at the factory. "I have been thinking of you all day, and have hardly been able to attend to the brine-pans."
"I am glad you thought of me," answered the girl.
They were in the front parlour. The grate had been replaced during the morning; a smell of wet mortar pervaded the room. No fire was kindled, as the mason had advised that the mortar should be allowed to set slowly.
"You did what was wrong, Queenie."
The girl seated herself at the table. Her mouth was screwed into a pout.
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