It’s an emerald. ‘You know perfectly well that she is the daughter of the Comtesse de St Erme. “Well——” She stopped short. Her hand came up and she laced her fingers with his. There was a little pause between them, full for Ann Veronica of rapid elusive suspicions and intimations. 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. That’s my point. " "I must trouble you to hold the child, then, for a minute, while I run up to the garret, where I've hidden it for safety," said Mrs. I imagine that even you must realize that this is of some importance. “I feel shabby and disgraced. ’ Roding’s voice changed.
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