There is something that inspires a feeling of inexpressible melancholy in sailing on a dark night upon the Thames. ’ ‘What, even less delightful than Gerald?’ enquired Lucilla, her eyes dancing. ‘We don’t know who she is. He put his free arm around her and held the censer ready; and as Ruth snuggled her cheek against his sleeve, they were, so far as intent, in each other's arms. ” 129 She smiled wider.
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