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"Noould speak the last Farewell, but cannot;

It would be still Farewell a thousand tirief"

"Rumor is a pipe

Blown by surmises, jealousies, conjectures,

And if so easy and so plain a stop

The still discordant, wavering multitude

Can play upon't"

At that tione when she

rose next one away in a slow, even downpour of rain, that was

devoid of every hope of blue sky or sunshine On the river they were in a

cloud of fog i

also in the little boat was cla day

before Allan; for his business scarcely occupied him an hour, and then he

went out into the black, chill street, and felt thoroughly miserable His

father's face had been so white, his hands had trembled so, he had ood-by' Allan's conscience