She felt herself falling, her bile rising in her 61 throat, the cold wind spinning around her like vertigo. He has nothing to fall back upon, no substitute; but a woman always has the mother love. " "Caught you napping, eh?" rejoined Ireton, with a laugh. 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.
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