She had removed her hat and utterly disarranged her already unruly black locks by running agitated fingers through them. John looked at his feet bashfully. " "You don't remember your mother?" "Oh, no; she died when I was very little. ” He paused and looked at her, and said, with a sudden drop into a confidential undertone, “Or else I want to pray. ” “I can’t imagine what makes you fly out against everything like this,” said Miss Stanley to her niece. But I’d have done it without, though it weren’t my place. Your mother, for what it’s worth to you—for there’s nothing for you here, by God!—was the woman I chose for Nicholas.
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