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“Then let me be the judge of what is best,” she answered. It amounted to two-and-twenty pounds. Her concluding paragraph was, on the whole, perhaps, hardly starchy enough. Her head snapped back as he grabbed her by the hair. She sat down awkwardly and helplessly on one of the little stools by her table and covered her face with her hands. And when I have steeped him to the lips in vice and depravity; when I have led him to the commission of every crime; when there is neither retreat nor advance for him; when he has plundered his benefactor, and broken the heart of his mother—then—but not till then, I will consign him to the fate to which I consigned his father.
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