” He stood quite silent for a moment, his eyes fixed upon her face. " "You are an angel, I say," continued the poor maniac; "and my Jack would have been like you, if he had lived. He dressed mechanically; so many moves this way, so many moves that. Her features are the same, yet the change has written its mark into her face. "Oh God! she is dying," exclaimed Jack in a voice suffocated by emotion. The rainstorm, short-lived, began to subside.
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