She told us that it was a disguise. It is putting all my dreams out of joint. "Mother!" she echoed,—"mother! why do you call me by that name?" "Because you are my mother. But don’t run away with the idea that I’m hanging out for a wife at last, because I’m not. ’ ‘She again?’ enquired his hostess, her delicate brows rising ‘I beg your pardon, ma’am. “I suppose most people’s letters are queer. She could now see to read; so she stirred the manuscript about until she came upon the first page. The father was a madman. I guess those books are okay because they are fiction.
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