“Mrs. Everything. "Mother!" she echoed,—"mother! why do you call me by that name?" "Because you are my mother. There was nothing on her face to hint of the misery that brimmed her heart this morning. The colouring was green and white, with softly shaded electric lights, an alcove bedstead, which was a miracle of daintiness, white furniture, and a long low dressing-table littered all over with a multitude of daintily fashioned toilet appliances.
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