I was helpless. “Before this there was a sort of restraint—a make-believe. And the woman who showed this room was tall, with an understanding eye and the quiet manner of the well-trained servant. A good woman’s mind has angels with flaming swords at the portals to keep out fallen thoughts. Yet in some hidden corner was a vein of sentiment, of which for the first time in his later life he was now unexpectedly aware. “Call it warning, if you like. "Mother!" she echoed,—"mother! why do you call me by that name?" "Because you are my mother. A slow anger burned in the man.
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