Then for the first time she was conscious of an unaccountable and terrifying sensation. Ruth had not expected to be kissed; so the omission passed unnoted. . “I am tired,” she said, “and I want to rest. I find you were excessively brave, mon pauvre. take it slow. ” “There’s a sort of instinct of rebellion,” said Capes. He was struck disagreeably by Ramage’s air of gallant consideration and Ann Veronica’s self-possessed answers. Her father became much less distant towards his only daughter in the days that followed. . ’ ‘About me?’ The lady’s lashes fluttered and her fan came up. 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. Ramage,” she said, sharply, “I have to make it plain to you. What isn’t a day-dream is this: that you and I are going to put an end to flummery—and go!” “Go!” said Ann Veronica, clenching her hands.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 18-09-2024 17:52:03
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