"We shall meet again ere long, my son," cried Mrs. ” “I say, you know, you have some pluck. ” He caught up and went on with a sort of clumsiness: “Let me present you with them and be your voter. Will you?” She thought, and it seemed to him she had never looked so self-disciplined and deliberate and beautiful. Sometimes—a lonely forlorn child—she had gone to him and put her arms around his neck.
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