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Hawthorne, Julian, 1846-1934

"Bressant"

It was not as his father's child, but only as your
own, that he was dear to you; he was _your_ child, a part of yourself,
and you loved him only because you loved yourself.
"When he was still a baby you left your husband's house, and thereby, if
justice were done, forfeited the recognition of good women, and pure
society; but you took great credit to yourself because you left your son
and your money behind you. Was it nothing in the balance, then, the
scandal, worse than any poverty, which the recovery of your property
would have caused? Nothing but self-sacrifice, to leave a sickly child
to all the advantages that wealth could give it? Well, a month
afterward, in spite of wealth, your son died."
At this announcement, Abbie's convulsive strength, which had thus far
served to keep her erect and motionless, exhaled itself in a long groan,
and left her placid and nerveless. Seeing her about to fall, Bressant
put forth his hands and grasped her arms below the shoulder, holding her
thus while he went on. Her eyes were closed and her head fell forward on
her bosom; but, so blinded was the young man by the remorseless passion
which had gradually been working up within him, he failed to perceive
that the old woman's ears were no longer sensible to his voice, nor her
heart sensitive to his words.


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