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. . "You are my prisoner. He couldn't be in better hands than those in which he has placed himself. He was and always would be dramatizing his emotions; perpetually he would be confounding his actual with his imaginary self. Yet her hands dropped, and she sighed deeply. .
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