He swore when I tried to get it out with the ladle, and told
me what it said. There
were one or two bitter moments in his life when he had been made to feel that
gentility laid on with a brush may sometimes crack and show weak places—that
deportment and breeding are after all things apart. 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. “What made you marry him? What made you
leave Paris without a word to any one? What made you and your sister exchange
identities?”
“There is one answer to all those questions, Nigel,” she said, with a nervous little
shudder. His gaze remained steady on the old
dame’s face, as he thought about it.
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This video was uploaded to indienet.info on 02-07-2024 04:50:42