So absorbed was she by her passionate supplications that she was insensible to anything passing around her, until she felt a touch upon her shoulder, and heard a well-known voice breathe in her ear—"Mother!" She started at the sound as if an apparition had called her, screamed, and fell into her son's outstretched arms. “Oh dear, I’m not dressed. Lucy did not want to have to kill the mother, as she hated more than anything to kill women, no matter what their sins. I am certainly no ghost. The man looked hard at him.
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