That is my way, my dear. "Mother!" she echoed,—"mother! why do you call me by that name?" "Because you are my mother. “These clothes are French, and I’m sure this floppy bow would make a Frenchman of me anyhow. I don’t know anyone. I have tried not to tell you—tried to be simply your friend. ” “An appetite like yours,” he said resignedly, “is fatal to all sentiment. Still, my tutor was a highly educated scholar—my father.
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