CHAPTER V. “I think we have,” he answered, gravely, and took her in his arms, and smoothed her hair from her forehead, and very tenderly kissed her lips. You know—if you want freedom. Nothing but the publicity of the place and the recollection of that terrible constituency kept him from attempting some perfectly respectful but unmistakable evidence of his sympathy. They almost made me feel like they were mine. ’ ‘Poor sort of a mother,’ Martha said with bitterness.
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