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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. For a time he would be the grim Protestant Flagellant, pursuing the idea of self-castigation. You might get faint, but you can fight it. The door was locked; but, with the bars of iron, it was speedily burst open.
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