She found him reclined, watching television in a small guest room hidden in a back wing of the massive house. To be no longer with Martha was strange. But, when I look upon his innocent face, and see how like he is to his father,—when I think of that father's shameful ending, and recollect how free from guilt he once was,—at such times, Mr. "Mercy on us!" cried he, as a thrill of apprehension ran through his frame. I undid his coat, and I took it from his pocket. The likeness was ridiculous.
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