“Your father,” he said, “remarked that all’s well that ends well, and that he
was disposed to let bygones be bygones. 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. But he only went home again to Paddington. But Melusine’s own words had thrown an idea into her head.
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This video was uploaded to kooplokaalmontferland.info on 07-07-2024 03:03:21