Upon what this instinct was based she could not say; she was conscious only of its insistence. Wood, despair will come over me; and, dear as this babe is to me, far dearer than my own wretched life, which I would lay down for him any minute, I have prayed to Heaven to remove him, rather than he should grow up to be a man, and be exposed to his father's temptations—rather than he should live as wickedly and die as disgracefully as his father. John said nothing. Michelle’s eyes were red and bloodshot. She is Bohemian to the fingertips. .
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