. She took hand cannon and began to arm it. “Not possible. There one is! The same stuff still! One has a craving in one’s blood, a craving roused, cut off from its redeeming and guiding emotional side. She was strong, not unlike a pack mule or a camel; she thought to herself and smirked. "Mother!" she echoed,—"mother! why do you call me by that name?" "Because you are my mother.
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