She admitted her pleasure to Ramage. She had been to San Francisco, and what I learned about the world was from her. "My son! my dear, dear son!" returned Mrs. She answered in whispers, for there was the white arm of a woman in the next box peeping beyond the partition within a yard of him. “Won’t you sit down,” she said, “and tell me what you want to say?” Her voice was flat and faint.
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