Think if your own mother was alive!” He paused, deeply moved. "Have nine years so changed me, that there is no trace left of your adopted son?" "God bless me!" ejaculated the carpenter, rubbing his eyes, "can—can it be?" "Surely," screamed Mrs. ” He said cruelly as she gazed at him in fear. I'll leave these out, and to-morrow you can read them through. Her face reminded him of a delicate unglazed porcelain cup, filled with blond wine.
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