’ ‘Dieu du ciel! But this is catastrophe. She said that your mother was only fifteen when she went to live with them. Supper was over. "And now," she added, with somewhat more composure, "leave me, dear friends, I entreat, for a few minutes to collect my scattered thoughts—to prepare myself for what I have to go through—to pray for my son. ’ Tears glistened in her eyes. "Is this her work?" "It is," answered Thames.
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