She descended the stairs, and found herself at last in the street—alone. But ere the words could find utterance, her maternal tenderness overcame her indignation; and, sinking upon her knees, she extended her arms over her child. “Mr. “I am tired,” she said, “and I want to rest. While he was stirring his tea, she ran and fetched the comb. I thought that you loved Paris and your work so much.
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