"No friend like the mother, for the babby knows no other. Supposing she saw the young man at dinner that night, emptying his bottle? She could not go to him, sit down and draw the sordid pictures she had seen so often. The little girl uttered no remonstrance; but, replacing the flowers in the basket, burst into tears, and withdrew. It was the beginning of June. It was the bitterest moment of her life. She was conscious the whole conversation of Michelle, trying to divine what the girl was planning to do.
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