1 During all that time Henry was my only nurse.
2 Henry Clerval was the son of a merchant of Geneva.
3 Henry saw this, and had removed all my apparatus from my view.
4 Nay, Henry might stand between me and the intrusion of my foe.
5 Henry deeply felt the misfortune of being debarred from a liberal education.
6 I dreaded to behold this monster, but I feared still more that Henry should see him.
7 Henry wished to dissuade me, but seeing me bent on this plan, ceased to remonstrate.
8 Ten thousand thanks to Henry for his kindness, his affection, and his many letters; we are sincerely grateful.
9 You have been ill, very ill, and even the constant letters of dear kind Henry are not sufficient to reassure me on your account.
10 The latter name made me tremble when pronounced by Henry, and I hastened to quit Matlock, with which that terrible scene was thus associated.
11 When these thoughts possessed me, I would not quit Henry for a moment, but followed him as his shadow, to protect him from the fancied rage of his destroyer.
12 Henry rejoiced in my gaiety, and sincerely sympathised in my feelings: he exerted himself to amuse me, while he expressed the sensations that filled his soul.
13 Company was irksome to me; when alone, I could fill my mind with the sights of heaven and earth; the voice of Henry soothed me, and I could thus cheat myself into a transitory peace.
14 Pardon this gush of sorrow; these ineffectual words are but a slight tribute to the unexampled worth of Henry, but they soothe my heart, overflowing with the anguish which his remembrance creates.
15 As it drew nearer I observed that it was the Swiss diligence; it stopped just where I was standing, and on the door being opened, I perceived Henry Clerval, who, on seeing me, instantly sprung out.
16 The month of May had already commenced, and I expected the letter daily which was to fix the date of my departure, when Henry proposed a pedestrian tour in the environs of Ingolstadt, that I might bid a personal farewell to the country I had so long inhabited.
17 Doubtless my words surprised Henry; he at first believed them to be the wanderings of my disturbed imagination, but the pertinacity with which I continually recurred to the same subject persuaded him that my disorder indeed owed its origin to some uncommon and terrible event.
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