I kissed her on her forehead.

“Mary, say to me thy prayer.”

“I could not, Sir; a prayer you do not say in the middle of the day.

Come to-night to my house, and you shall hear me say it.”

This was enough. I interrupted her.

“Darling Mary, it is _I_ who am thy papa.”

“You!” returned she.

Hans of Iceland, Vol. 2 of 2; The Last Day of a Condemned · 第 125 / 153 题