But when all was over, a sorrowful calm succeeded, and, if not free from grief, she was tranquil. It had been very peaceful in the little cave for countless years. Perhaps, she may tell me whose picture this is. The cloth was removed, and Wood, drawing the table as near the window as possible—for it was getting dusk —put on his spectacles, and opened that sacred volume from which the best consolation in affliction is derived, and left the lovers—for such they may now be fairly termed—to their own conversation.
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