” “I hope that you may,” Anna answered enigmatically. She watched them sleep for what seemed hours from the high window until her body grew colder than the stone sill she perched upon. "As it's getting late, and the porter may be gone to bed," he observed; "I'll take the pass-key, and let myself in. Adventure rules, and morality—looks up the trains in the Bradshaw. The idea of anything criminal never entered her thoughts. There is something that inspires a feeling of inexpressible melancholy in sailing on a dark night upon the Thames.
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