“It is just a look. " "Poor soul!" ejaculated her son. So I come suppliant. The moisture from the sea was constant, and she spent countless hours staring at the sea from the west tower, the rise and fall of waves. 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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