"Leave him to me," he said. Not a word passed between them. He looked like the shadow of himself—thin, feeble, hollow-eyed—his beard unshorn—nothing could be more miserable. org/donate Section 5. She stood up and he sat down at the microscope, and for a time he was busy scrutinizing one section after another. "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.
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