Practice Typing
Jane Eyre: An Autobiography - Brontë, Charlotte · 77 words
Ravenous, and now very faint, I devoured a spoonful or two of my portion without thinking of its taste; but the first edge of hunger blunted, I perceived I had got in hand a nauseous mess; burnt porridge is almost as bad as rotten potatoes; famine itself soon sickens over it. The spoons were moved slowly. I saw each girl taste her food and try to swallow it; but in most cases the effort was soon relinquished.
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