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. Ann Veronica sat back in an attitude of inattention, her eyes on a distant game of cricket, her mind perplexed and busy. " "Isn't that lagoon gorgeous? I wonder if there'll be sharks?" "Not in the lagoon. As sure as you're sitting there, Mr. . " "Won't my life do as well as his?" supplicated the other. She herself, and one other there, recognized the interposition of something akin to tragedy. Her words, as she said them, seemed to her to mean nothing, and there was so much that struggled for expression. He’s got flowers. ” Anna looked at her steadily. He did not explain what had happened to her. She looked up, and recognized Mr. Officers were these.
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