“I can walk,” she said, struggling to be put down.,
“And, darling, I know how to find your mother,” Edith encouraged, brushing her own moist eyes, and clasping them all in her round young arms. “I’ll have your picture taken, and get it in all the papers—”,
“Yes; but I’m afraid my papa’s dead, he’s been gone so long.” How she hated that word “kid.”.
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