She sat down by the paperrack with a general feeling of resemblance to Vivie Warren, and looked through the Morning Post and Standard and Telegraph, and afterward the half-penny sheets. He could not tell by the look of her whether she was glad or sorry that presently she would be free. That is what my mother used to call me. "Hear me, Jack!" shrieked his mother. "Mother! dear mother!" cried Jack, folding her to his breast.
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