“The surgeon’s knife is surely a kindly weapon,” she declared. Mr. Mr. But here was a girl—she must be a girl, since she was his daughter and pat-able—imitating the woman quite remarkably and cleverly. “Yes, I will go,” she promised, with a queer little smile. "Are you a human being, to leave her thus?" "It is better so. "A mother's prayers—a mother's blessings," she cried, with the fervour almost of inspiration, "will avail against a fiend's malice. CHAPTER XX.
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