But after all, Mrs. You have taken upon your shoulders the burden of her misdeeds. I took the money myself, and ought to know. "Forgive—forgive me!" "I have nothing to forgive," replied Mrs. Mere hangers on. Prudence shook her head. Books! She knew now what had saved her—her mother's hand, reaching down from heaven, had set the giver's flaming eyes upon the covers of these books. But, on the bursting of that bubble, his hopes vanished with it. ‘So now we come to it.
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