Wrenching his hands from her shoulders, she thrust them away and leapt up from the chair. She felt as if she had struck them unawares. And, now, to find a messenger. "What's the matter?" repeated Mrs. God! I have cheated myself into a belief that the boy perished! And now my worst fears are realized —he lives!" "As yet," returned Jonathan, with fearful emphasis. His frame was wasted, and slightly bent; his eyes were hollow, his complexion haggard, and his beard, which had remained unshorn during his hasty journey, was perfectly white.
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