‘Pen and paper, do you have them?’ ‘Danged if I have,’ came the truculent response. 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. He lowered himself on to her. Now I’d like the rest of your story. He thrust the smaller weapon into a scabbard that hung from his belt. “Martin, you realize that I’m dating someone, don’t you?” She knew his reply before he uttered it. At the threshold of the study he bade her good-night; but he did not touch her forehead with his lips.
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