"But if it is thy will to take me from him," she continued, as soon as her emotion permitted her,—"if he must be left an orphan amid strangers, implant, I beseech thee, a mother's feelings in some other bosom, and raise up a friend, who shall be to him what I would have been. There’s nothing a girl can do that isn’t sweated to the bone. The rest. ‘Like you?’ ‘But I am not French.
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