“I regret that you should ever have proposed it,” he went on. She wore a plain black dress, reaching almost to her throat—her small oval face, with the large brown eyes, was colourless, delicately expressive, yet with something mysterious in its Sphinx-like immobility. He was consumed with desire. Teenage boys never change, she thought to herself. "Mother!" she echoed,—"mother! why do you call me by that name?" "Because you are my mother. “I am happy. “My darling!” he said, clasping her resolutely in his arms, “my dearest!” “Mr.
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