' Why," said Ruth, "you did not read that to us. 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. “This is my way back to my side of the Park,” she said. "What's that you're saying about Jack Sheppard?" she cried. "I used to cry myself to sleep, Hoddy, I was so forlorn and lonely. Brendon. I need not counsel you to avoid those fatal courses which have placed you in such fearful jeopardy. She wondered occasionally why his mind needed so much distraction. Her greatest exploit was the howling before the mid-day meal.
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