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“Whilst he sat by his bed, ministering to him with the care of a son, he dwelt with melancholy delight on his revered features, and listened to his languid voice with those tender associations which are dear to the heart, though they pierce it with regretful anguish.” — Jane Porter
Whilst he sat by his bed, ministering to him with the care of a son, he dwelt with melancholy delight on his revered features, and listened to his languid voice with those tender associations which are dear to the heart, though they pierce it with regretful anguish.