There is something that inspires a feeling of inexpressible melancholy in sailing on a dark night upon the Thames. She had never thought of him at all in that way before. "You heard me say it! It was inevitable. Flesh and blood, vivid, alluring; she was no longer the symbol, therefore she had become, as in the twinkling of an eye, an utter stranger. It’s these damned novels. These particulars are familiar to all, who have any title to the knowledge.
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