"Do not shed more blood," cried the carpenter. Do you recall the night she showed you the face in the locket? Do you remember how she said—'If only my mother had lived'? Did you ever see anything more tender or beautiful?" "I remember. He resumed his listening. Clotilde flew into a rage, crying, “How dare you lay claim to my children! I am their mother! This is a Godless house!” She accused. . She paused. He did not write this with lead but with his heart's blood. “You need have no further trouble.
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