He stood upon the threshold, dangling his eye-glasses in his fingers, stolid, imperturbable, mildly interrogative. Single pearls— Lord knows where they come from!—are always turning up, some of them of fine lustre; but I never set eyes on them. ‘I do not know him. And as a natural consequence, they don’t do so well, and they don’t get on—and so the world doesn’t pay them. All right. ‘It is Yol—’ She broke off abruptly, her face collapsing into an expression of acute consternation. "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. “You must come and see me some afternoon,” she said to him.
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