" The clock tinkled ten. "My mother!—my poor mother!" ejaculated Thames, falling on his knees, and bursting into tears. “I would not have you go for anything,” she answered. It was time to leave America. It was not your fault you failed. You've a good deal to go through to-night. And then presently these clouds began to wear thin and expose steep, deep slopes, going down and down, with grass and pine-trees, down and down, and at last, through a great rent in the clouds, bare roofs, shining like very minute pin-heads, and a road like a fibre of white silk-Macugnana, in Italy.
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