” “That is exactly what I feel. What is done cannot be undone. On this fresh outburst of the storm, Wood threw himself instinctively into the bottom of the boat, and clasping the little orphan to his breast, endeavoured to prepare himself to meet his fate. Holding the lamp over her rigid but beautiful features, Jonathan, with some anxiety, placed his hand upon her breast to ascertain whether the heart still beat. Books were always sliding and slipping, clumsy objects to hold. He went in and leaned, panting, against one wall.
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