"Mother!" she echoed,—"mother! why do you call me by that name?" "Because you are my mother. The gentleman appealed to shook his head in reply, coughed as only a Dutchman can cough, and raising his hand from the bowl of his pipe, went through precisely the same mysterious ceremonial as the Master. All the same, I don’t admit it. . ‘You cannot read my mind at all, monsieur. Instead, they lived a Bohemian existence, moving from patron to patron, city to city.
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