"Forgive me—oh, forgive me!" "Forgive you—bless you!" she gasped. “A girl needs her mother most exactly when she thinks she doesn’t. The man’s passion became almost unbearable at the thought of losing her. They were standing face to face now upon the hearthrug. Her eyes glistened in the darkness—for light was only admitted through a small grated window—like flames, and, as she fixed them on him, their glances seemed to penetrate his very soul. Now I do.
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