She had unaccountable gleams of sympathy with and liking for him. She turned them down and gently placed the violin back in its red fake fur lined chamber. "And now," she added, with somewhat more composure, "leave me, dear friends, I entreat, for a few minutes to collect my scattered thoughts—to prepare myself for what I have to go through—to pray for my son. The whole was then fired, and in a few minutes the room was a blaze. “Reuben, come here. ‘I would read your body,’ he whispered, and lifted her fingers to his lips.
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