“My hand! This isn’t the place. "He hears me not! he's gone!" she added, as the door was opened and shut with violence; "something tells me I shall never see him again!" When her father, a moment afterwards, issued from the parlour to ascertain the cause of the noise, he found her seated on the stairs, in an agony of grief. Holding the lamp over her rigid but beautiful features, Jonathan, with some anxiety, placed his hand upon her breast to ascertain whether the heart still beat. ” “It wouldn’t be you either.
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