” She muttered some
unlady-like comment upon herself under her breath and engaged in secret
additions. In after years, some pitying hand supplied the
inscription, which ran thus—
JACK SHEPPARD
THE END. "
"Bring him here,—let me see him—let me embrace him—let me be assured that
he is safe, and I am yours. The meat was coarse and disagreeably served. He did not particularly care. ”
“What?”
“That’s the devil of it!”
“Devil of what?. It drives one mad at times. What else could one say? I left him to suppose—a
registry perhaps. "Your voice seems familiar to me—and—but
I'm getting a little deaf—and my eyes don't serve me quite so well as they used
to do, especially by this light. Dare we look back upon the
darkened vista, and, in imagination retrace the path we have trod? With how
many vain hopes is it shaded! with how many good resolutions, never fulfilled,
is it paved! Where are the dreams of ambition in which, twelve years ago, we
indulged? Where are the aspirations that fired us—the passions that consumed us
then? Has our success in life been commensurate with our own desires—with the
anticipations formed of us by others? Or, are we not blighted in heart, as in
ambition? Has not the loved one been estranged by doubt, or snatched from us
by the cold hand of death? Is not the goal, towards which we pressed, further off
than ever—the prospect before us cheerless as the blank behind?—Enough of
this. “Look here! Aren’t you going a little too far? This—this is
degradation—making a fuss with sleeves. . Very slowly, very fearfully, she turned her
head. “Nigel is like all men,” Lady Lescelles continued. "Then I advise you to look sharply after him,
Mr.
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This video was uploaded to indienet.info on 03-07-2024 14:24:40