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. I love some one else. It’s the poor dears who do, who know they will, know they can’t keep it up, who need to clutch at way-side flowers. “You silly fool,” he said. “You do not quite understand,” she said gently. A curious silence ensued. Mr.
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