"What's the matter?" demanded Jonathan, harshly. Spare him!—pity me!" With this she arose, and, taking up the infant, was about to proceed down stairs, when she was alarmed by hearing the street-door opened, and the sound of heavy footsteps entering the house. She wet some absorbent cotton with alcohol and refreshed his face and neck. A conviction that her sister’s words were true had from the first possessed her.
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