It took all my self control not to let my hands wander. 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. Why shouldn’t we be martyrs? There’s nothing else for most of us, anyhow. I can’t tell anyone certain things about my life.
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