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Rh my thoughts to wander to the poor blind man standing in the church porch and lashed by the keen north wind. 'Charity, good people, charity,' said his voice. 'I have robbed that man,' I thought suddenly,—'robbed—robbed—robbed.' I repeated the word again and again. My nurse had blown out the light and left the room; the flickering of the embers on the hearth gave fantastic shapes to the objects about me. I felt for my handkerchief and took out the piece of gold, and held it in my hand to drive away the shame which brought the hot blood to my face, though I was all alone and no one to see me. Yes, it was in my hand; I held it, and with it I seemed to hold that coveted toy. But stay, not quite. I should have to explain to my sister how those ten francs came into my possession. Could I tell her that my uncle had given them to me? Impossible. She would speak of them. He would tell her he did not give them, and I should be lost. Should I wait a few weeks and declare they were the fruit of my saving? On the fingers of my empty hand I counted up the weeks, and found it would take half a year to give that tale any semblance of probability, and by that time the sabre might be sold. Bah! how silly I was not to have thought at once of a good way! I would go out with my nurse in the afternoon, taking the coin in the palm of my hand, and then, suddenly, I would stoop as if to pick it up, and