There was an air of repressed gaiety in her actions: the sense of freedom had returned; her heart was empty again. ” “Not yet,” he said. The evening breeze came; the bamboo shades on the veranda clicked and rasped; the loose edges of the manuscript curled. He felt that he might soon be separated—perhaps, for ever—from the fond little creature he held in his arms, whom he had always regarded with the warmest fraternal affection, and the thought of how much she would suffer from the separation so sensibly affected him, that he could not help joining in her grief.
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