‘—and what do I do? Well, we know what I do. You know not in what dark places my life has been cast; with what crimes it has been stained. There was a pause, while the steel grey eyes sliced at her. Mischief bubbled up in her. Wherever I saw him, I should pick him out as a man designed by nature to plan and accomplish the wonderful escapes he has effected. "But if it is thy will to take me from him," she continued, as soon as her emotion permitted her,—"if he must be left an orphan amid strangers, implant, I beseech thee, a mother's feelings in some other bosom, and raise up a friend, who shall be to him what I would have been. His diminutive hand flew out from behind his back like a wounded bird. She was the consummate mother, even when extremely tired, she missed nothing.
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