There is something that inspires a feeling of inexpressible melancholy in sailing on a dark night upon the Thames. ’ Melusine frowned, placing her hand on the letter lying on the table. It was Sunday evening—a soft delicious evening, and, from the happy, cheerful look of the house, none would have dreamed of the dismal tragedy so lately acted within its walls. Yes. "Got the rooms mixed. His voice had changed, the joy had gone out of it; and she understood that something from the past had rolled up to spoil this hour.
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