The perspiration stood out upon his forehead. His literary instincts began to stir. The blast once more swept over the agitated river: whirled off the sheets of foam, scattered them far and wide in rain-drops, and left the raging torrent blacker than before. You shall tell me if I am wrong. An unhappy little sigh escaped her. ” She peered at him through the semi-blackness. " "Quite the contrary," rejoined the woollen-draper, laughing good-humouredly.
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