Mother—dear mother!" he added, clasping her in his arms, "Look at me again. He would never recognize me now. “What nonsense is this? What raving! My dear child, you DO live, you DO exist! You have this home. CHAPTER I. I have neither father, mother, brother, sister, nor husband—I have only him. May we not repeat them once, at any rate, in London? “Ever yours, “NIGEL ENNISON.
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