"And now," she added, with somewhat more composure, "leave me, dear friends, I entreat, for a few minutes to collect my scattered thoughts—to prepare myself for what I have to go through—to pray for my son. ‘I’m only a poor country wench, child. And as for not knowing me, you abominable little liar, you’re perfectly aware that we met at Remenham House. " "For me!" vociferated Mrs.
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