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 is her own affair. As far as I am concerned they can think what they please, think, if they like, that she stole, or that she earned her living in any other criminal way. Or they can—if they are magnanimous—think that Marie, now she had grown to womanhood, received more pin-money from her parents—parents who though they had been rather stingy to her of old time, were indeed very well off.

THINK that according to good literary usage, I ought really to have introduced Marie's parents to the reader, told him all their faults and their general characteristics. But it is rather late now; besides, why should I give offence to these most respectable people, who, after all, have very little to do with the story.

There is, however, some one else, whom I am bound to introduce. That is Marie's admirer.

I knew Marie's admirer, and could therefore easily give a minute description of him. Indeed, I am going to tell you something about him, though I must commence with the remark that most of it is, of course, sheer invention. For how could I possibly mention the man by his right name and profession, give the address of his tailors, or the number of his freckles? But one of my good friends, a refined arbiter of taste and a well-known critic, assures me that authors ought not to be allowed to cheat their readers out of such information concerning the position et cetera, of the people who figure in their stories.