"Mother!" she echoed,—"mother! why do you call me by that name?" "Because you are my mother. ‘And so?’ she asked. ‘It is not for myself, you understand,’ pursued the man, in an unctuous tone that sickened the general, ‘but for this poor one. It was precious for two reasons: it was the photograph of her beautiful mother whom she could not remember, and it would identify her to the aunt in Hartford. Come home alone.
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