On the bench was set a quartern measure of gin, a crust of bread, and a slice of cheese. The man who came to our rooms, you know, that night was his friend. I throw up work—everything! I just teach in one school, one good school, three days a week. 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. "And now," she added, with somewhat more composure, "leave me, dear friends, I entreat, for a few minutes to collect my scattered thoughts—to prepare myself for what I have to go through—to pray for my son. One can't help being jealous, you know, even of an unworthy object. She seemed honestly glad to see him. ” John traced his finger over the meeting point of her breast and her ribcage as they lay naked on his unmade bed.
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