She cursed the treachery of memory, its frailty and spottiness. "Mother!" she echoed,—"mother! why do you call me by that name?" "Because you are my mother. "I wonder if you will understand what this kindness means to me? I am so terribly wise—and so wofully ignorant!" CHAPTER XII The doctor shifted his books and magazines to the crook of his elbow. What our dear mother would say back home I dread to think. You may not know it, but it's easier to find a guy that's gone far than it is when he lays dogo in little old New York. "You shall hear," returned Jonathan. But leave me here in my home, child, I will disintegrate if I am exposed. At sunset the swarming abruptly ceased; even the sampans appeared to draw closer together, with the quiet of water-fowl. Was he planning on spending more time with her once in the country? The streets choked with beggars and the dying. She is curiously altered in many ways. "What's that to you?" demanded Jonathan, gruffly.
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