She did not remember how many seasons it took before she relented, how much time before she decided to toy with his affections. She ran her gaze over him, and allowed her eyelashes to flutter down. "So, you young fool, I have found you!" she said, harshly. 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 time she feinted as his point came up to deflect her own, and disengaging, passed under and cut at his cheek. I hope—I am sure that he did not see me. ” “Oh, I might,” he answered, “have gone further still. To recreate the era, I deliberately tried to avoid creating a thinly disguised bodice ripper where an “empowered” woman mouthed off to prospective suitors in jerkins and tights, in other words, a typical romance novel. ‘You think so? Well, if that’s so, I know where she gets her impudence, Prudence Sindlesham. Milice,’ Gerald translated.
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