Sheppard, raising herself, and looking at him as if her life depended upon the answer. "Mother!" she echoed,—"mother! why do you call me by that name?" "Because you are my mother. ” “So far,” she continued, eyeing hungrily the last morsel of roll which lay upon her plate, “my only chance of occupation has lain with a photographer who engaged me on the spot and insulted me in half an hour.
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