I don't care how soon he learns that he has lost his adopted son. Lord help him! he's the very image of his father. “In Paris our lives were far apart, and we had seldom the same friends. "My friends, Mr. Then she uttered a strangled, ‘Espéce de bête!’ and burst into tears. I told you no good would come of it. I still have a cross stitch she made for me of a little fairy sitting on a daffodil. This is a tale of two young fools.
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