The young man stared at his mother until he had mastered her meaning.
But Avice is—er—my dear, she is like her mother in more ways than one.
Give your heart up to it, as a little child led by its mother's hand!
You were our only child; named Artaminta, in remembrance of my mother.
"You're carryin' on the same way yourself," ventured his mother.
"I'll put on the teakettle ...