Something about the girl had suggested an idea. But ere the words could find utterance, her maternal tenderness overcame her indignation; and, sinking upon her knees, she extended her arms over her child. When she looked into their eyes, her despair put her beyond tears. “If you wish,” he said, “I will go there in the morning and see what can be done for him. She stared out of the paned glass window, watching the trees being blown bare by the gale force. She was my first love.
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