Tell him the truth, Annabel. 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. She felt herself shaking again. \"What did you do?\" Mike asked. ’ ‘Dieu du ciel! But this is catastrophe. He looked at her, hurt. " "Nonsense!" cried Wood; "while there's life there's hope. ’ ‘That was not what I had in mind. Wood, in indignant surprise. E. Then they would leave and she would go back to being alone. The woollen-draper looked at his watch. She was too wrapped up in the sheer joy of playing again; it had 201 been intimate, masturbatory.
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