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It had been only a few weeks since they'd moved in, and Hannah was learning (again, in a way, but it stung just as much the second time) that the world was often needlessly cruel. Muriel tried to comfort her but just didn't have much time or energy to do so, and she confided in Belboz about the problem. One evening she was fast asleep, exhausted, by the fireplace, while Hannah stood in the kitchen finishing up the dishes, roughly wiping tears from her cheeks as she whimpered quietly to herself. This was the scene Belboz was greeted by when he let himself in. With a subtle hand wave in Muriel's direction that would ensure she'd continue to sleep peacefully, he approached Hannah and took her up into his arms. "What's wrong, my dear?" he asked sweetly. She sniffled. "I hafta finish washing." "Tish tosh, Uncle Belby is here to see you. Your mummy will understand." He took a seat by the fire. She rubbed her eyes. "The children in town make fun of me, all the time. They trip me in games and always make sure I lose. They say me an' Mummy aren't as good as their families 'cause we don't have any money of our own." Belboz listened silently. When she was finished, he said,
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