All these circumstances,—slight in themselves, but powerful in their effect,—touched the heart of the widowed carpenter, and added to his depression. She had imagined that prisons were white-tiled places, reeking of lime-wash and immaculately sanitary. Now keep still. "Mother!" she echoed,—"mother! why do you call me by that name?" "Because you are my mother. like, well, um, you’re kind of looking just a little bit homely lately. His salary was a few paltry hundreds a year.
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