There is something that inspires a feeling of inexpressible melancholy in sailing on a dark night upon the Thames. " "Till midnight," replied Jack. ” “You are sure that he asked for me—not for Annabel?” “Certain,” Courtlaw answered. Capes?” she heard her aunt saying. Hogarth, didn't I see you last night at the ridotto with Lady Thornhill and her pretty daughter?" "Me!—no, Sir," stammered Hogarth, colouring. "Have nine years so changed me, that there is no trace left of your adopted son?" "God bless me!" ejaculated the carpenter, rubbing his eyes, "can—can it be?" "Surely," screamed Mrs.
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