But his gloom appeared to be occasioned by remorse, rather than sorrow. The voice of the young seaman came floating down from the masthead, and the story of the immortal lovers had begun. Who but you would have dreamed of giving the boy such a name? Why, it's the name of a river, not a Christian. It will be a little lonely sometimes,” she said, looking around at them, “and I shall miss you all, but it is the fairest for myself —and I think for you. I thought it was a mirror at the first, for it was so very like myself. " "Mr.
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