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It was Sunday evening—a soft delicious evening, and, from the happy, cheerful look of the house, none would have dreamed of the dismal tragedy so lately acted within its walls. Do you think that I am utterly selfish?” She raised her eyebrows. The modern parts of the book were inspired by my worldview of high school as pure, unadulterated Hell. It is not so. "Mother!" she echoed,—"mother! why do you call me by that name?" "Because you are my mother. He put an arm around her.
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