“One can’t tell. "And now," she added, with somewhat more composure, "leave me, dear friends, I entreat, for a few minutes to collect my scattered thoughts—to prepare myself for what I have to go through—to pray for my son. \"Yes, uh, no. Perhaps she was. She seemed to be endowed with superhuman strength. It was a gray day in the spring of 1910. God! I have cheated myself into a belief that the boy perished! And now my worst fears are realized —he lives!" "As yet," returned Jonathan, with fearful emphasis.
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