After all, old P. It was precious for two reasons: it was the photograph of her beautiful mother whom she could not remember, and it would identify her to the aunt in Hartford. God would have taken mercy on her baby, seeing that she had already had too much pain and that he had taken her beloved mother. ” He too rose. ‘Come,’ she called. “Here we are,” he said, “shining through each other like light through a stained-glass window.
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