"Mr. Ingelow came with me. He is
waiting below."
"That is well. It is growing late, and the neighborhood is not a good
one. He saved you, did he not?"
"He did. I owe him my life--my liberty."
"I knew he would--I knew he would! I trusted him from the first Mollie,
do you know why I sent for you in my dying hour?"
"To tell me who I am."
"Yes--you would like to know?"
"More than anything else in the wide world."
"And have you no idea--no suspicion?"
Mollie hesitated.
"I have sometimes thought," reddening painfully, "that I might be Mr.
Walraven's daughter."
"Ah!" said Miriam, her eyes lighting; "and he thinks so, too!"
"Miriam!"
"Yes," said Miriam, exultingly, "he thinks so--he believes so, and so
does his wife. But for all that, not one drop of his blood flows in your
veins!"
"Miriam!"
"Not one drop! If there did, you should not now be standing by my death
bed. I would expire unrepenting and unconfessed. Mollie, you are
mine--my very own--my daughter!"
She raised herself on her elbow and caught Mollie in her arms with a
sudden, fierce strength.
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