" "You may see the marks on the child yourself, if you choose, Sir," urged the widow. Come into the parlour, Winifred, and dry your eyes directly, or I'll send you to bed. A grimy, battered object, which had no place in the fashionable quarter of town. Mrs Sindlesham’s wrinkled cheek had paled, and her eyes were fixed upon Gerald in a look that wrung his heart. It would make the young wife unhappy. ” She replied with a rehearsed answer, “I was told that my real mother died the day I was born.
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