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"Is it indeed you, or am I dreaming?" "You're not dreaming, mother," he answered. ” “I shall have no objection at all,” Anna assured him. "Come, then," said Wild, marching towards the door, "we've no time to lose. 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. ’ Releasing her, he turned and walked swiftly towards the door. “He wants me to have dinner at his parent’s house tonight,” still looking at a series of spots on the carpeting. “The white unaggressive woman who corrects and nurses and serves, and is worshipped and betrayed—the martyr-queen of men, the white mother.
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