Even the love of a mother does not sway him. ‘I can’t help but be sure,’ he returned shortly. “What have you done to yourself?” he muttered. But tell me how have you escaped from the confinement in which you were placed—come and sit by me—here—upon the bed—give me your hand—and tell me all about it. Everything was very neat; it had evidently been straightened up and kept for her.
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