No good at all. Every care had been taken of it, as well as of himself, by the humane inmates of the house in which he had sought shelter. "Mother!" she echoed,—"mother! why do you call me by that name?" "Because you are my mother. Something in his smile, in the cynical suggestiveness of his deferential tone, maddened her. I’d rather die than hear any more fairytales.
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