In the midst of the holy place, which he had formerly profaned, lay the body of his unfortunate mother, and he could not help looking upon her untimely end as the retributive vengeance of Heaven for the crime he had committed. He reached for her and she stroked his head soothingly as his mother had done a few times when he had suffered bad fevers. Are we to see him here?" "Yes, my love. . "Your mother is dead," interposed Wild, scowling. I’m a desperate young woman. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation web page at http://www.
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