“Because I hate you!” She spat. While he was stirring his tea, she ran and fetched the comb. “Oh! I wish,” she said, “that people thought alike about these things. " "You believe it, father?" "From the bottom of my heart. I—well, I borrowed Anna’s name. Bravo!—the best cly-faker of 'em all couldn't have done it better. "Mother!" she echoed,—"mother! why do you call me by that name?" "Because you are my mother. She was by his side. "Sir!" exclaimed Winifred, rising. “Is this Montague Street, W. She knew, or guessed his mission too, for more than once their eyes met, and she laughed mockingly at him.
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