His absence was thought by the charitable to be from grief. She laughed a little contemptuously. She took up one of her father’s novels and put it down again, fretted up to her own room for some work, sat on her bed and meditated upon the room that she was now really abandoning forever, and returned at length with a stocking to darn. They even talked about friendship. His chest heaved violently, and big tears coursed rapidly down his cheeks. Eventually her movements carried her to the little stand at the side of the bed.
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