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Years ago I used to say, that, if I ever wrote a book, it should be dedicated to my mother.

The possibility—then contemplated almost in jest, has now been fulfilled. The book is written: but all else is changed. I will keep my promise still.

Let this, my first novel, which would have been a tribute of tenderest affection to the Living, become a solemn offering to the holy memory of the Dead.

WQR 19 FEB'36

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