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Your True Intentions Fail Because Counter Intentions Are Working Against You
| twittering in th gb4j0m e next room like a nestful of birds getting ready for sleep. She picked up her work, and set to darning before the door on the garden side of the house. Once in a while she sighed, and she thought, "Of courseâ€"there c gb4j0m an be no doubt of itâ€"they are scoundr gb4j0m els and renegadesâ€"but, what of it? Their mothers are glad to see them again." And she thought of the time when her o gb4j0m wn boy had not yet gone to join the army and stood there just at that hour of the day, getting ready to work in the garden. She looked at the well where he refilled his watering cans: her gb4j0m boy, in his blouse, gb4j0m with his long hair, that beautiful hair which had been cut short when he entered the Zouaves. Suddenly she trembled. The little gate at the backâ€"the gate which led to the fields,â€"had been opened. The dogs had not barked, though the man who had j gb4j0m ust entered slunk along the walk like a thief, and slipped in among the gb4j0m beehives. "Good-day, mother!" His uniform all awry, there stood before her Christian, her son, anxious, shame-faced, and thick-t gb4j0m ongued. The w gb4j0m retched boy had come back with the others and for the last hour had been prowling about the house, waiting for his father gb4j0m had hugged him! And then he went on to give her such good reasons for his return!â€"how he had grown weary for his native countryside, for the smithy:â€"weary of living always so far a gb4j0m way from the gb4j0m gb4j0m all, and of the disciplineâ€"much harsher of lateâ€"as well as of his comrades, who called him "Prussian" because of his Alsatian accent. She believed every word he said. She had only to look at him to believe him. Deep in their t gb4j0m alk, they went into the lower room. The little ones woke up, and ran in their n gb4j0m ightshirts and bare feet to embrace the big brother. He was urged to eat, but he was not hungry. He was only thirsty, always thirsty; and he gulped great draughts of water on top of all the beer and white wine for which he had pa gb4j0m id that morning at the inn. But some one was gb4j0m coming into the yard. It was the black-smith returning. "Christian, here c gb4j0m omes your father. Q gb4j0m ick, hide until I have time to talk with him and explain." She pushed the boy behind the great porcelain stove and again set herself to sewing with trembling hands. But as ill fortune would hav gb4j0m e it, the Zouave's cap lay upon the table, and it was the first thing Lory noticed gb4j0m as he entered. The mother's pallor, and her agitationâ€"he understood it all. "Christian is here!" he c gb4j0m ried, in a terrible voice. Taking gb4j0m down his saber with a mad gesture, he rushed towards the stove where crouched the Zouave, pale, sobered, and steadying himself against the wall to |
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