Mother! do you know what you do? Would you sell yourself to this fiend?" "I would sell myself, body and soul, to save you," rejoined his mother, bursting from his grasp. "I'd forgotten. When he was up and about, the idea of flight would return. “This stirs one. Still it was possible, and the difficulty was only a fresh incitement. But you must not imagine me wrapped in melancholy. At present the world waits for that writer, and the confused record of the newspapers remains the only resource of the curious.
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