It had been his fevered imagination that had endued the garment with some extraordinary value. She was saying good-bye to childhood and home, and her making; she was going out into the great, multitudinous world; this time there would be no returning. She ran towards the arched stone door, her mouth forming an “O” of surprise as she realized that she was in the high turret of an ocean side castle. ’ ‘But you don’t look anything like her,’ burst out Mrs Ibstock. The path he had selected conducted him to his mother's humble dwelling. He lifted her from the floor.
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