What is it?" "Is there anything I can do?" The idiocy of the question filled him with the craving of laughter. A deep dread calm, like that which precedes a thunderstorm, now prevailed amongst the assemblage. " "My poor son!" groaned the widow, sinking backwards. His thoughts, indeed, were too painful for utterance, and so acute were his feelings, that, for some time, they quite overcame him.
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