"But if it is thy will to take me from him," she continued, as soon as her emotion permitted her,—"if he must be left an orphan amid strangers, implant, I beseech thee, a mother's feelings in some other bosom, and raise up a friend, who shall be to him what I would have been. They're apt to be surly to strangers, but it soon wears off. Passing thought. It seems to me just talk; it seems to me like the fancy of a dream. I say again, grace à vous.
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