” He referred to a sheet of paper by his side. Then she would write and tell her father what she had done, and put their relationship on a new footing. It’s got to be at last like tobacco-ash over all my sayings and doings. From this perturbed state he was roused by thoughts of his mother, and fancying he heard her gentle voice urging him on to fresh exertion, he started up. It’s the poor dears who do, who know they will, know they can’t keep it up, who need to clutch at way-side flowers. But, you see, she HAS to lie up.
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