"This young fool is come to restore the article—whatever it may be—which Lady Trafford was anxious to conceal, and which his companion purloined. ’ Was there a careful note in her voice? Gerald gave no sign, keeping his own tone light. "Mother!" she echoed,—"mother! why do you call me by that name?" "Because you are my mother. She had arranged for a supper of tea, a boiled egg, and some tinned peaches. A little smothered cry broke from her lips—the curtains were thrown aside and a man stepped out.
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