A murmur ran through the assemblage, by several of whom Jack was recognised. 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. ‘You seem to understand the gentry very well. She thought of an old abandoned barn that she could inhabit further downriver, but shrugged off the idea in disdain. ‘Bête,’ she flung at him. He was by no means certain that she would not in fact attempt to blow off his head as she had threatened. I'll send you word when I catch him. For a moment her heart seemed to stop beating. Then his tiny bow mouth opened into an adoring smile. “I remember it very well indeed.
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