"Shall I shoot him?" "Yes! yes! put it to his ear!" cried Mrs. You would rather live like the scum of the earth, in that little brown hovel you call a house, in bourgeois paradise. "But if it is thy will to take me from him," she continued, as soon as her emotion permitted her,—"if he must be left an orphan amid strangers, implant, I beseech thee, a mother's feelings in some other bosom, and raise up a friend, who shall be to him what I would have been.
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