And next morning she attired herself with especial care and neatness, found his address in the Directory at a post-office, and went to him. "Gracious Heaven!—is she the inmate of a mad-house?" "She is, Sir," answered the woollen-draper, sadly, "driven there by her son's misconduct. ’ ‘You may not get the chance. ” Their eyes met for a moment. He gave her silence in return. ’ Then memory hit and he stared at his friend.
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