‘Do you tell me that my disreputable son had the infernal insolence to pass you off as that whoring Frenchwoman’s daughter?’ His answer was in their faces. The thought of you, wandering from pillar to post, believing yourself hunted—it tore my old heart to pieces! For I knew you. I am sorry to seem to hurt you, but all I say is for your good. He would provide the necessities of life and protect her. ’ A radiant smile dawned. It had rained during the night, and the patch-work pavement was greasy with mud.
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