Everywhere I went and rapped at a door I found behind it another dreadful dingy woman—another fallen queen, I suppose— dingier than the last, dirty, you know, in grain. Sydney was strumming over a new song which stood upon the piano. "Sounds as if I had heard it, but I can't place it this minute. The trees were graceful and brown, arching and fanning their golden leaves as if to shower with coins the pink-gold sky. Do you remember when we went right away, Nigel, and forgot everything? We went down the river past Veraz, and the larks were singing all over those deep brown fields, and the river further on wound its way like a coil of silver across the rich meadowland, and along the hillside vineyards. His countenance was pale as death, but not a muscle quivered; nor did he betray the slightest appearance of fear. Instead of which they walked sharply.
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