\"I'll meet you at your locker after school. Occasionally the flames would bend, twist and writhe crazily as the punka-boy bestirred himself. And now I find, when it is too late, that I might have deserved you—that I am as well born as Thames Darrell. She glared at him with satisfaction. I dare not reflect upon the effect that her son's fate,—if the efforts to save him are ineffectual,—may have upon her enfeebled frame, and still worse upon her mind.
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