So, one day, because God was wroth, her mother ran away with a blackguard, and died in the gutter, miserably. “I confess it. “Wise! Kind! What mockery words are! I came because I had to. “What of her? Have you quarrelled with her?” The girl shook her head. “Thank goodness!” said that retreating aspect, “that’s said and over. Clotilde flew into a rage, crying, “How dare you lay claim to my children! I am their mother! This is a Godless house!” She accused. ’ ‘For God’s sake,’ protested his junior.
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