Mother—dear mother!" he added, clasping her in his arms, "Look at me again. Love stories! It was of negligible importance that these books were bound in paper; Romance lay unalterably within. “What else was I to do?” For some seconds she stood watching him and both were thinking very quickly. She was slender, and sometimes she seemed tall, and walked and carried herself lightly and joyfully as one who commonly and habitually feels well, and sometimes she stooped a little and was preoccupied.
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