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Spurlock sat limply, his arms hanging. “It is positively no use, Anna,” she declared, appealingly. The ripple of the water against the boat, as its keel cleaves through the stream—the darkling current hurrying by—the indistinctly-seen craft, of all forms and all sizes, hovering around, and making their way in ghostlike silence, or warning each other of their approach by cries, that, heard from afar, have something doleful in their note—the solemn shadows cast by the bridges—the deeper gloom of the echoing arches—the lights glimmering from the banks—the red reflection thrown upon the waves by a fire kindled on some stationary barge—the tall and fantastic shapes of the houses, as discerned through the obscurity;—these, and other sights and sounds of the same character, give a sombre colour to the thoughts of one who may choose to indulge in meditation at such a time and in such a place. “I shot him. His voice now had lost its ironies. ’ ‘What, a common soldier?’ ‘He was not a common soldier. It disgusts me that you should touch me. As he fell, he caught at the projecting masonry. Amid this portentous hush, the report of a pistol reached the carpenter's ears; and, raising his head at the sound, he beheld a sight which filled him with fresh apprehensions. "I'm come to say good bye to you, and to assure you of my safety before I leave this place. It must be sent home this evening.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 01-10-2024 02:09:27