She was always initiating petty breaches of discipline. When he found himself thinking about it, it upset him so that he at once resorted to distraction. "I am your most unhappy son. So perfect was the illusion, that he could almost fancy he heard the solemn voice of the ordinary warning him that his race was nearly run, and imploring him to prepare for eternity. “You may call anytime. ‘I’m only a poor country wench, child.
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