Was that it? Had she clothed this unhappy young man with glamour? Or was it because he was so alone? She could not get through the husks to the kernel of what really actuated her. Her faculties seemed for a moment numbed. ‘Do not think—’ he panted, ‘that I am finished—with you, mademoiselle. " After making several ineffectual attempts to keep himself above water, Sir Rowland sunk, and his groans, which had become gradually fainter and fainter, were heard no more.
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