And then all her restlessness was turned to joy. ’ ‘I’m that sorry, miss,’ Kimble said glumly. She crushed the letter in her hand. 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. She had fallen into it naturally, the only expression of the dance she had ever seen or known, and that a stolen sweet. “All day.
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