‘What, is Nicholas dead?’ He saw the two of them exchange glances and an instinct of danger rose up. 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. The procession now wound its way, without further interruption, along Holborn. The day was so darkly overcast that she had to turn on the small white porcelain lamp that sat upon the makeup crowded vanity. Lucy went hunting on a Thursday night.
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