I was supposed to do the same, but I didn’t. It’s the poor dears who do, who know they will, know they can’t keep it up, who need to clutch at way-side flowers. "Mother!" she echoed,—"mother! why do you call me by that name?" "Because you are my mother. ” She rose up. Accordingly, having given Wood such directions as he thought necessary for his guidance, and received a handsome gratuity in return for his services, he departed. Her old nurse’s hands returned the pressure. The distinction lay chiefly in the right to pat their heads.
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