She had made her way since then a little further into the heart of life. Sometimes it seemed that she would never recover it. "Mother!" she echoed,—"mother! why do you call me by that name?" "Because you are my mother. ” She whispered. ’ ‘Damn you, I should have beaten you,’ Gerald swore, holding fast to his corner of the little square of linen. " "What for?" demanded the turnkey. And it’s like the petals falling from a flower. Kneebone, who began to feel sleepy, wound it up, and snuffed the candles. " "No more of this," rejoined Thames, "or we shall quarrel.
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