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The Flight of the Shadow by George MacDonald
page 77 of 229 (33%)

"I think so. I shall not tell her."

"But," I began.

He interrupted me.

My heart was sinking within me. Not only had I wanted him to help me to
tell my uncle, but I shuddered at the idea of having with any man a
secret from his mother.

"It must look strange to you," he said; "but you do not know my mother!"

"I think I do know your mother," I rejoined. "She saved my poor little
life once.--I am not sure it was your mother, but I think it was."

"How was that?" he said, much surprised. "When was it?"

"Many years ago--I cannot tell how many," I answered. "But I remember all
about it well enough. I cannot have been more than eight, I imagine."

"Could she have been at the manor then?" he said, putting the question to
himself, not me. "How was it? Tell me," he went on, rising to his feet,
and looking at me with almost a frightened expression.

I told him the incident, and he heard me in absolute silence. When I had
done,--

"It _was_ my mother!" he broke out; "I don't know one other woman who
would have let a child walk like that! Any other would have taken you up,
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