"The 'voice of nature' has nothing to say in the matter, and I am no more
like him than a white chick is like a mastiff. But it might be so, you
know, for all that."
"I know. Would it make you any happier to know you were his daughter?"
"I don't know," said Mollie, thoughtfully. "I dare say not. For, if I
were his daughter and had a right to his name, I would probably bear
it, and be publicly acknowledged as such before now; and if I am his
daughter, with no right to his name, I know I would not live ten-minutes
under the same roof with him after finding it out."
"Sharp little Mollie! Ask no questions, then, and I'll tell you no lies.
Take the goods the gods provide, and be content."
"But, Miriam, are you really my aunt?"
"Yes; that much is true."
"And your name is Dane?"
"It is."
"And my mother was your sister, and I bear my mother's name?"
The dark, weather-beaten face of the haggard woman lighted up with a
fiery glow, and into either eye leaped a devil.
"Mollie Dane, if you ever want me to speak to you again, never breathe
the name of your mother.
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