” He answered as they hauled huge remainders of stumps and ragged rocks to the grave to make it difficult to trespass upon. She pulled down her veil and made her way to the door. ” “You remembered. "Mother!" she echoed,—"mother! why do you call me by that name?" "Because you are my mother. " He stuffed the printed chintz into her arms and smiled into her eyes. Annabel passed on with a strained nod to her sister, and Sir John’s bow was a miracle of icy displeasure.
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