Keeping to the shadow of the house, he crept forward until he could see better without, he hoped, being seen. And the infernal thought of that kiss returned—the softness of her lips and the cool smoothness of her cheeks. Before retracing his steps, however, he allowed his gaze to range over the vast and beautiful prospect spread out beneath him, which is now hidden, from the traveller's view by the high walls of the General Cemetery, and can, consequently, only be commanded from the interior of that attractive place of burial,—and which, before it was intersected by canals and railroads, and portioned out into hippodromes, was exquisite indeed. Tell him the truth, Annabel. "Von't you hear me?—ough! ough!" demanded Sharples, after a pause.
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