"Speak English?" boomed the voice. His kind eyes were puffy with fatigue. Books! She knew now what had saved her—her mother's hand, reaching down from heaven, had set the giver's flaming eyes upon the covers of these books. "Mother!" she echoed,—"mother! why do you call me by that name?" "Because you are my mother. But she made no answer. "I am. We've got to make him take up the harp of life and go twanging it again.
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