She thought of leaving the Beck house less and less these days, though the suitcase remained packed underneath her creaky bed. Perhaps that was the reason why she enjoyed preparing suppers at the Becks. "Aye—to pretend to her that you don't care. Jack, who had something of the Spartan in his composition, endured his martyrdom without flinching; and carried his stoical indifference so far, as even to make a mocking grimace in Sharples's face, while that amiable functionary thrust Thames into the recess beside him.
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