The Wastrel did not relish this. "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. C below. You can think all round me. I don’t think of you as a kid. It feels like too much gold-dust clutched in one’s hand. There was absolute quiet. Besides, he was a Yale man. But no more of that. The foremost, tall, clean-shaven, perfectly groomed, half extended his hand with a smile of recognition.
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