"Now, give me the woollen cloth to tie round my fetters," whispered Sheppard. She passed people in the streets and regarded them with a quickening apprehension, once or twice came girls dressed in slatternly finery, going toward Regent Street from out these places. “I’d run away with you in a heartbeat. ” “Every one hasn’t the Gift. All superfine holland. \" \"Oh, come on!\" Shari exclaimed, putting her cocoa down and burying her face in a fat white pillow. It was no marriage at all. The thought of their faces, and particularly of her aunt’s, as it would meet the fact— disconcerted, unfriendly, condemning, pained—occurred to her again and again. 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. ‘Even the nuns they say I am like a devil. Forgive me?” She pleaded. ’ ‘Damn you, answer me!’ Her eyes flashed.
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