"Have nine years so changed me, that there is no trace left of your adopted son?" "God bless me!" ejaculated the carpenter, rubbing his eyes, "can—can it be?" "Surely," screamed Mrs. They set about everyone—everyone. She crawled over and caught at the skirts of this white woman who understood. 'He's a good fellow, and 'twill all end well'. She could smell his cologne underneath his collar, or perhaps his aftershave. "No friend like the mother, for the babby knows no other.
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