She caught her breath, and her eyes were lit with a sudden terror. Loneliness—something that was almost physical: as if the vitality had been taken out of the air she breathed. “How did you hear that?” Lucy’s brows knitted. I dare not reflect upon the effect that her son's fate,—if the efforts to save him are ineffectual,—may have upon her enfeebled frame, and still worse upon her mind. But the mere recognition of his son’s signature was enough to stoke the fires of his long-held rage.
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