“I told you I did not love you. Tell Lucy about the time you were nine years old and blew up the house, John. A white man, wandering about the streets of Canton at night, was a challenge to such a catastrophe. He chuckled. She took refuge in beating her pillow and inventing insulting epithets for herself. Darrell. . I dare not reflect upon the effect that her son's fate,—if the efforts to save him are ineffectual,—may have upon her enfeebled frame, and still worse upon her mind.
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