He turned irresolutely to the table upon which lay the scattered leaves of his old manuscripts. It was less will than education. 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. Brother and Sister VIII. He removed his cocked hat and came towards her. "Ah! who have we here?" exclaimed Griffin. "Oh! no—no—no," cried Winifred, "I cannot believe it. That had taken her by surprise, and her tired wits had failed her. “Good evening, Dorling,” he said.
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