“Some day,” she answered. “And where,” he asked, “are my rivals?” “Deserters,” she answered, laughing. But what are you doing here?” “Old Père Runeval met me on your doorstep, and he would not let me go. She stood, as it were, directed doorward, with her eyes watching every movement, listening to him, repelled by him and yet dimly understanding. Bu buluşma, ikisi için başka bir dönüm noktasıydı. She got up, drew up her blind, and stared out of window at a dawn-cold vision of chimneys for a time, and then went and sat on the edge of her bed. She silently willed him to stop his pacing, to calm down. But kill me rather than commit this outrage. "Mother!" she echoed,—"mother! why do you call me by that name?" "Because you are my mother.
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