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. There was a lot of that, John, a great deal of hunger. The candles—for McClintock never used oil in his dining room—were burning low in the sconces. “Nothing,” said Ann Veronica, and stared over her shoulder out of the window.
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