‘Ain’t no call for you to go a-blaming of yourself. She sat on the edge of the bed —the wardress was too busy with the flood of arrivals that day to discover that she had it down—and her skin was shivering from the contact of these garments. Gerald watched her perambulations in silence, his heart wrung. Perhaps I've been mad all these years; I don't know. I have suffered him to be brought up decently—honestly; because I would make his fall the greater, and deepen the wound I meant to inflict upon his mother. About two weeks ago.
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