"And now," she added, with somewhat more composure, "leave me, dear friends, I entreat, for a few minutes to collect my scattered thoughts—to prepare myself for what I have to go through—to pray for my son. “How are you feeling?” She asked with grave concern in her voice. ” “But how?” He was, she thought, a little too insistent. It is queer how ideas pop into one's head. Jonathan mixed with the group, and, sure of his prey, abided his time.
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