You are your nephew's executioner, or he is yours. “Oh God!” she cried, “Oh God!” and flung aside her opera-cloak, and for a time walked about the room—a Corsair’s bride at a crisis of emotion. “What did it matter?” she cried. ” “Except,” said Constance, surveying her work with her head on one side, “to keep the matches from the litter. Far away there was the one woman for this boy of mine—some human being who would understand the dear fool better than all the rest of the world. You know nothing of life, nothing of its dangers, nothing of its possibilities. There were moments when she thought of turning upon this man and talking to him. It was the very spot from which his poor mother had gazed after her vain attempt to rescue him at the Mint; but, though he was ignorant of this, her image was alone present to him.
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