Here again instinct guided her. The spinster saw herself growing warm again in the morning sunshine of youth —a flaring ember before the hearth grew cold. I had to go at a moment’s notice. The silence grew unbearable, so she asked, \"What is your surname, John?\" \"My surname? You mean my last name?\" \"Yes. She was ashamed of herself for the simple gladness she felt wash over her as the infant’s screams ended. “For your own sake, let me beg of you not to stay for a moment.
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