Yet in some hidden corner was a vein of sentiment, of which for the first time in his later life he was now unexpectedly aware. It had been very peaceful in the little cave for countless years. “You poor child!” he said; “don’t you see the infinite folly of these proceedings? Think! Think of the love and affection you abandon! Think of your aunt, a second mother to you. It was a spring-tide at half ebb; and the current, which was running fast and furiously, bore him instantly away.
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