Good night. ’ ‘His daughter, ma’am?’ Gerald asked. Had he had the child to think of, he might have recovered from his grief at Mary’s death. "Mother!" she echoed,—"mother! why do you call me by that name?" "Because you are my mother. "It's runnin' a great risk. ” “You are a marvellous courier,” she declared, as they passed into the street. “I feel justified then,” he said, “in annexing his chair.
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