It was dry, as if she had powdered it. He would never be able to compose upon it, but it would serve to produce the finished work. It was owing to the untimely end of this poor fellow that Mrs. Ah Cum before the day was over, slyly baiting him. The girl was like some north-country woodland pool, penetrated by a single shaft of sunlight—beautifully clear in one spot and mysteriously obscured elsewhere. 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. Or he would find something—a wave in her hair, a little line in the contour of her brow or neck, that made an exquisite discovery. He probably imagines himself to be a thousand times worse off than he actually is. She laughed nervously, but kept her eyes averted. "Confusion! the rascal must have picked my pocket of your letters," whispered Kneebone, "What's to be done?" "What's to be done! Why, I'm undone! How imprudent in you not to burn them. It was Sebastian’s fault for slapping her face and letting the baby out. And, whatever you may think, I assure you, Jack's a downright goodnatured fellow.
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