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 When she finally returned to the kitchen, Bindle, his supper finished, had made up his mind to a great sacrifice. For a few seconds they stood regarding each other. It was Bindle who broke the silence.

"Lizzie," he said awkwardly, "I'll go to chapel on Sunday if you like."

And then for no reason at all Mrs. Bindle sat down at the table, buried her face in her arms and sobbed convulsively.

"I wonder wot I done now," muttered Bindle, as he regarded Mrs. Bindle's heaving shoulders with a puzzled expression on his face. "Funny things, women."