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. CHAPTER XXXII. ’ ‘Are you mad?’ ‘Gerald is convinced there is a secret passage into the house,’ explained Roding. Be a good wife to him. So far he had not stirred; from his bloodless lips had come no sound. . There was granite in her face and agate in her eyes. He was chained to the ground, but started up at their approach. Ruth shivered; she was cold. “Well,” she said.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 01-10-2024 23:43:30