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Various

"The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 06, No. 33, July, 1860"

Other things have nought to do with it. And, as your
physician, I require you to withhold the matter until you are well
enough to face the world."
"No,--I must reap where I have sown. I have no right to impose upon
my friends any longer."
"Bad news travel fast enough, Clarian, and there is no wisdom in
losing a friend so long as you can retain him."
"I do not see the force of your reasoning, Dr. Thorne. I have enough
to answer for, without the additional contumely of being called an
impostor."
"For your mother's sake, Clarian, I command you to wait. Spare _her_
what pain you can, at least."
"My mother! Oh, my God, do not name her! do not name her!"
And he burst into the only tears I ever saw him shed, hiding his face
in the bed-clothes, and sobbing piteously.
"What does this mean?" said Mac, as soon as we were where Clarian
could not hear us. "What have you found out?"
"Positively nothing more than you know already," answered Thorne.
"Nothing?" echoed Mac, very indignantly; "you speak very confidently
for one having such poor grounds."
"My dear Mac," said Thorne, kindly, "do you think I am not as much
concerned about Clarian as you are? Positively, I would give half I
own to arrive at a satisfactory solution of this mystery.


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