"Mother!" she echoed,—"mother! why do you call me by that name?" "Because you are my mother. ’ The sergeant’s air became positively avuncular. She ought to have written at once and told him exactly what had happened. " This exclamation had scarcely escaped him, when the discharge of a pistol was heard, and a bullet whizzed past his ears. My late husband, I mean. You ought to know that. Jane was a smoldering auburn-haired Irish beauty who seldom spoke to anyone.
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