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His face was that of a quick, intelligent-looking boy, with fine hazel eyes, and a clear olive complexion. Ah Cum was not a sailor, but he knew his water-front. “Dear old Daddy,” she said, “he’ll make a fearful fuss. “Forgive me,” he decided to say at last, and his voice had a little quiver of emotion, and he laid his hand on hers upon her knee. “If I were to marry now,” she said, “it would be with a sense of humiliation. I can't keep a good man beyond three pay-days. At the door through which she had entered the room stood the so-called Monsieur Valade. 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. “Really!” said Mr. A fever of shame ran through her being.

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