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‘You forget, Mrs Ackroyd,’ I said, ‘Flora was Ackroyd’s own niece, a blood relation. It would have been different had you been his sister instead of his sister-in-law.’


‘As poor Cecil’s widow, I think my feelings ought to have been considered,’ said the lady, touching her eyelashes gingerly with the handkerchief. ‘But Roger was always most peculiar- not to say mean – about money matters. It has been a most difficult position for both flora and myself. he did not even give the poor child an allowance. He would pay her bills, you know, and even that with a good deal of reluctance and asking what she wanted all those fallals for – so like a man- but – now I’ve forgotten what it was I was going to say! oh, yes, not a penny we could call our own, you know. flora resented it – yes, I must say she resented it – very strongly. Though devoted to her uncle, of course. But any girl would have resented it. yes, I must say Roger had very strange ideas about money. He wouldn’t even buy new face towels, though I told him the old ones were in holes. And then,’ proceeded Mrs Ackroyd, with a sudden leap highly characteristic of her conversation, ‘to leave all that money – a thousand pounds, fancy, a thousand pounds! – to that woman.’

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