"Mother, I come to you. His face, as he looked down where his hand sought for a weapon concealed in her petticoat, was so close that she could see only the line of his firm jaw, the drag of his powdered hair that drew it into the military pigtail, and the black ribbon that adorned it. Suppose—suppose a girl did want to start in life, start in life for herself—” She looked him frankly in the eyes.
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