She found the silence comforting, as old people often do. Dare we look back upon the darkened vista, and, in imagination retrace the path we have trod? With how many vain hopes is it shaded! with how many good resolutions, never fulfilled, is it paved! Where are the dreams of ambition in which, twelve years ago, we indulged? Where are the aspirations that fired us—the passions that consumed us then? Has our success in life been commensurate with our own desires—with the anticipations formed of us by others? Or, are we not blighted in heart, as in ambition? Has not the loved one been estranged by doubt, or snatched from us by the cold hand of death? Is not the goal, towards which we pressed, further off than ever—the prospect before us cheerless as the blank behind?—Enough of this. ” “I don’t believe it,” he answered hoarsely. Somebody may be on the watch—perhaps, that old ginger-hackled Jew. "This is the explanation of the bloody deed. She acted as her mother had taught her to. In the pause a door could be heard opening and closing on the landing up-stairs. "I told you I was not unprotected. ” Their eyes met for a moment.
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