Horrors abounded in every passageway as each turn could bring a vision of a poor woman running from her screaming plague-infested son or a bloated corpse of a rich man whose mouth lolled open, showing gaps where someone had pried out a few golden teeth. 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. One day she awoke and he was cavorting about underneath the covers. "I hope you don't imagine anything has gone wrong, Sir. There was no one else in the doorway. She patted John's head with her palm, its surface appealingly fuzzy. The poet's appearance altogether was highly prepossessing. Very intelligent, by the looks of the books she was carrying. " McClintock whistled. ’ ‘Why must you?’ asked Gerald calmly. "But, however, it may turn out, I disown you. ” Anna was thoughtful. The poor fellow's half smothered.
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