’ ‘From you,’ the lady threw at him furiously. You have been to me like a mother, not only a wetnurse. ” She turned her face to the fire, gripped her hands upon her elbows, and drew her thin shoulders together in a shrug. "Well, my dear, I've a proposal to make in regard to this babby of yours, which may, or may not, be agreeable. Wood," she continued, with a sudden change of tone, and convulsively clutching the carpenter's arm, "promise it me. “What nonsense is this? What raving! My dear child, you DO live, you DO exist! You have this home.
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