"Mother!" she echoed,—"mother! why do you call me by that name?" "Because you are my mother. The lad had just barely jangled it, when hurrying footsteps could be heard inside. Flowers, theatre boxes, carriages, the “open sesame” to the whole world of pleasure. "Despatch him!" roared Jonathan. And I suppose it is too much to expect that any entirely English young lady would be prepared to tolerate me for the remainder of my life. But we've got to cook up some kind of a story to protect her. Her nerves were shattered, her senses dazed by this unexpected shock.
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