CHAPTER XXXIV.
AN ENCOUNTER.
This was an October morning, in the waning of the year; and yet so
bright and clear and fresh was it, even in the middle of London, that
one could have imagined the spring had returned. The world was full of a
soft diffused light, from the pale clouds sailing across the blue to the
sheets of silver widening out on the broad bosom of the Thames; but here
and there the sun caught some shining surface--the lip of a marble
fountain, the glass of a lamp on the Embankment, or the harness of some
merchant-prince's horses prancing into town--and these were sharp
jewel-like gleams amidst the vague general radiance. The air was sweet
and clear; the white steam blown from the engines on Hungerford Bridge
showed that the wind was westerly. Two lovers walked below, in the
Embankment gardens, probably listening but little to the murmur of the
great city around them. Surely the spring had come again, and youth and
love and hope! The solitary occupant of this chamber that overlooked the
gardens and the shining river did not stay to ask why his heart should
be so full of gladness, why this beautiful morning should yield him so
much delight.
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