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She had made a bed for herself out of wood and furs. It was a perfect windless spring day, a Sunday. "I am quite easy now; receive my blessing, my dear son; and if we never meet again, rest assured my last prayer shall be for you. C. ‘Go on up to the boy, my dear. For a moment he believed this merely a new phase of the dream. Small blame to her. Kneebone. She was to have fifteen pounds, and no more. She swallowed hard.
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