"A mother's prayers—a mother's blessings," she cried, with the fervour almost of inspiration, "will avail against a fiend's malice. The evening breeze came; the bamboo shades on the veranda clicked and rasped; the loose edges of the manuscript curled. ’ ‘That was not what I had in mind. ” “I can’t imagine what makes you fly out against everything like this,” said Miss Stanley to her niece.
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