‘It—it is—nothing,’ she uttered jerkily. To-night she could have hugged both the old maids. She had thought it a mirror, because it was her. "Do they treat you ill?" asked her son. "Your father said so before you," replied Jonathan, malignantly; "and yet it has tarried thus long. "I give you all of my genius, and you say—'Get out!' I am some kind of a dog.
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