“I am afraid—I really think that one of us ought to go with you,” he said. I do not choose the vicomte, for that would be foolish. I shall take to him as nat'ral as if he were my own flesh and blood afore long. So absorbed was she by her passionate supplications that she was insensible to anything passing around her, until she felt a touch upon her shoulder, and heard a well-known voice breathe in her ear—"Mother!" She started at the sound as if an apparition had called her, screamed, and fell into her son's outstretched arms.
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