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. "Help! help!" "You call in vain," returned Kneebone. That’s— that’s my private life. She was standing before a window, against the background of the rain-burdened April sky. “I shouldn’t have waited,” she said.
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